


I'll crawl home to her

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: Robb, Myrcella, Sansa and Jon are all in university together. It's full of fluff, both romantic and otherwise. Smut to follow, may experiment with Jon and Sansa POV later on.Ages: Jon 22, Robb 21, Sansa & Myrcella 18, Arya 16, Bran 14, Rickon 11





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on, man,” his cousin looked at him, “It’s one party…”

Robb rolled his eyes, “I don’t have time, you know that.”

“If I have time, you have time, and besides,” Jon looks at him now with a knowing smirk on his face, “Sansa will be there. I’d say we have a better chance of keeping her out of trouble if we are both there.”

Robb let’s out an exasperated sigh, “You really are a bastard,” he says, but Jon only looks at him with a wide smile.

****  
“Come on, Ellie,” a pair of blue eyes implores her, “You have to.”

Myrcella rolls her green ones, “I cannot wear this, you know that.”

“If I can wear this, then you can wear that, and besides,” Sansa looks at her now with a knowing smirk on her face, “Robb will be there. I’d say you have a better chance of getting his attention wearing this than one of the turtlenecks you’re so fond of.”

Myrcella let’s out an exasperated sigh, “You really are the worst,” she says, but Sansa only looks at her with a wide smile.

****

The party was exactly the reason why Robb had always avoided college parties. Girls in too tight clothing danced on each other too provocatively to draw the boys’ attention away from their beer pong game. 

Now in his senior year, he could count on one hand the amount of times he had attended one. He had spent most of his weekends going home to Winterfell, checking on his siblings. Uncle Edmure was a good guardian, but could never be a substitute for the parents they had all lost. He and Sansa had taken on those roles, until Sansa had started at Last Hearth University. 

He couldn’t begrudge his sister for wanting to let off some steam. Even now at 18 she was too young to take on the responsibilities of a mother, let alone when she was 14 and she too was mourning the loss of their parents. But she had taken to it the same way he did, without complaint or hesitation. They had the most time with their parents, and neither of them would let them down.

It had been Sansa who had convinced him to go to school. When his parents died at the beginning of his senior year of high school he had been intent on taking time off to care for his siblings, but Sansa had encouraged him to go, citing the need for his education to remain on course if he was going to take over the family business at 22. Their father’s war buddy, Jon Umber, was acting as CEO during Robb’s education, and Robb worked part time, studying the business under his rather bombastic regency.

Now Sansa had joined him and Jon at Last Hearth and she had taken to college life like everything else that had come her way. Rooming with their father’s old friend’s daughter, Myrcella Baratheon, the two beauties had taken the campus by storm. He and Jon kept a watchful eye on her, and he knew that Myrcella was by far the tamer of the two, but it didn’t stop the male eyes that followed the girls everywhere they went.

Jon had played his hand well, Robb thought as he accepted the red cup being offered, there was no way he would let Sansa come here without supervision. And he would watch out for Myrcella too, she had lost her own father, and his father would have wanted him to look out for her. At least that’s what he told himself, as his eyes searched the crowd for her halo of gold.

****  
Myrcella wrinkled her nose at the beer being offered her. She had never liked the stuff, and it being offered luke-warm in a plastic cup did nothing to endear her to it. 

Sansa rolled her eyes at her, before looking up at the strapping rugby player in front of them, “Ellie doesn’t care for beer…,” she then took a small sip, taking care to lick some foam from her top lip before smiling at his friend in the button down polo, who had a lazy, most likely substance induced, look in his eyes.

The rugby player, Terwyn, Rolf? Looked down at her, a slight glint in his eyes, “That’s okay princess, what’s your poison?”

“Gin, I suppose,” Myrcella said shyly, fighting the urge to cover up her bare arms. 

“Ah, my specialty, come with me, I’ve got a private stash in my room” he says as he starts to guide her quite forcefully away.

She hesitates, “B-b” turning back towards Sansa, but her friend is already being guided to the dance floor, and the hand on her back only increases in pressure.

****

Robb and Jon were listening to a rather odious story being told by Galvin Glover when he spotted the two girls. 

He saw his sister being lead to the dance floor and made to go over to her before Jon stopped him with a hand on his chest. He glared at his cousin, his blood boiling at how the douchebag pressed against his sister, when Jon nodded his head in the other direction and Robb saw Myrcella, practically being pushed through the party. 

The two cousins nodded at one another before taking off in opposite directions. Jon heading towards the dance floor and Robb pushing his way through the crowd to intercept Myrcella before she was taken upstairs.

“You know, on second thought, I’m not even thirsty” he heard Myrcella say in her light voice, but he could hear the nerves in it.

“Nonsense princess – you deserve the best,” her companion leered over her.

Robb had reached them just in time to hear the exchange, and while he would have broken it up no matter what Myrcella’s feelings, he was especially intent on it after hearing her fear.

“The lady said she wasn’t thirsty,” he said as he blocked their path to the stairs. He didn’t even allow himself to glance at Myrcella, his eyes boring into the ogre who still had his hands on her. 

“Bro, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but this is my house.”

“I wouldn’t take too much pride in that statement, bro.” he said, growling on the last word, “And I don’t care who you are or what you do, but you sure as hell aren’t doing it with her,” he said as he extended his hand to Myrcella.

His stomach clenched when he felt her small soft one take his, reveling in the warmth of it. He tightened his grip on her when he felt the small tremor, and he led her back through the party.

****

Dread was growing inside Myrcella as she felt herself being forced through the party. She hated herself for being such a people pleaser. If she were like Sansa, or better yet, Arya, she would have stood up to this giant. But here she was, being forced through a party, probably about to be forced upstairs, and then who knows what, and all because she was too concerned with being a lady to stick up for herself.

She tried to extricate herself gracefully, “You know, on second thought, I’m not even thirsty” she said and wanted to curse herself by how flimsy her voice sounded.

“Nonsense princess – you deserve the best,” he leered over her and it made her stomach turn. 

As she considered taking a more aggressive approach, she was stopped short by a pair of angry blue eyes. 

“The lady said she wasn’t thirsty,” he said forcefully, and Myrcella could have cried in relief.

“Bro, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but this is my house.”

“I wouldn’t take too much pride in that statement, bro.” Robb said, growling on the last word, which made Myrcella smirk “And I don’t care who you are or what you do, but you sure as hell aren’t doing it with her,” Robb said as he mercifully extended his hand to her and she grasped onto it like it was a life raft. 

Her stomach turned for a whole new reason now as he lead her through the party, her small hand incased in his large one. She could feel the callouses on his fingers, but his hand was warm and comforting and she fought the urge to grab onto his arm with the other.

She lost that fight when a drunk guy stumbled past them, bumping into her and her hand flew to Robb’s rather impressive bicep. 

He looked down at her then, the first time his gaze met hers, and he crinkled his eyes at her. He leaned into whisper in her ear, and she felt his beard tickling her when he said, “Thirsty?” 

“Definitely,” she replied and he looked at her conspiratorially as he took a flask out of his back pocket.

There was no hesitation now, as she raised the flask to her lips and took a sip. It was whiskey, not her preferred gin, but she smiled as she felt the liquid burn it’s way down. 

She offered it back up to him and he met her gaze as he raised it to his lips. It’s almost like we’re kissing, she thought to herself and then internally groaned at how lame she was. 

“Ellie!” she heard someone scream and she found Sansa in the crowd, dancing with a rather awkward looking Jon, as her redheaded friend beckoned her to join them. 

This time it was Myrcella, surprised at herself, leading Robb through the throngs of people, her hips already swaying to the upbeat song.

****

He was going to kill his sister. She knew he didn’t dance. But what was he supposed to do when Myrcella Baratheon of all people, led him through the party to the dance floor. Her hips were moving to the music and he was helpless. 

They neared his sister and cousin, who were dancing a little too close for his liking, but he leaned down and kissed Sansa’s cheek anyway, “You’ll pay for this, little sister,” he said in her ear.

“You love it, big brother,” she says in a singsong voice before turning her attention back to Jon.

He wanted to laugh as Sansa danced with him, half mocking him, as she made Jon spin. But his attention was diverted by Myrcella. The colored lights were dancing in her hair as she raised her arms, her hips and head moving to the beat. She spun, and she almost looked like a little kid, but then her eyes met his and her smile was like a dagger to his heart.

The song changed and now he did laugh when Sansa and Myrcella grabbed each other’s hands and screamed, his eyes meeting Jon’s who shared a similar expression. 

With Myrcella’s gaze on his sister, he allowed himself to finally really look at her. Her hair fell in waves, her graceful neck and shoulders exposed in her light pink mini dress. Every time she raised her arms, the hem raised with her, revealing even more of her toned legs, and as she wriggled her hips he fought the urge to grab her small waist.

The song changed again, this time it was a sultry rap song, and the crowd reacted in turn. Couples paired off, and the collective temperature rose. 

Myrcella turned to him, a little shyly, and he was about to lean over her to see if she wanted some air, when instead, she moved closer to him, a question in her eyes as she reached up tentatively and her hands touched his chest before resting on his shoulders. Finally he let his hands circle her waist, and he suppressed a groan when he felt her shiver at his touch.

****

She wasn’t sure what had made her be so bold. Maybe it was the relief at being rescued, the burn of the whiskey, or the delicious way his blue eyes sparkled, but Myrcella had wanted to touch Robb Stark, so she did.

She couldn’t get over how strong his body felt underneath her hands, and when his hands had gripped her waist a shudder went through her body. She was sure he had felt it, and she would have been afraid to meet his gaze had he not pulled her closer then, his body moving against hers.

They fell into an easy rhythm, and she found herself resisting the urge to lean up and kiss his neck. To protect herself from doing something stupid, she turned around so that her back was against him. Her desire wasn’t helped when he took her cues and wrapped his arms around her waist, his body pressed flush against hers. 

Her eyes closed as she sunk into his embrace, and she smiled a bit wickedly when she felt as much as heard him groan when her butt shimmied against him. She met Sansa’s eyes briefly, her beautiful friend winking at her before she closed her eyes again. 

When she felt his hands tighten on her, she let her head fall back against his chest. He leaned his head down and his chin rested against her temple. She wasn’t sure what they looked like, his arms around her, her hands holding his biceps, as their heads turned into one another, but she wasn’t sure that she cared. She was in Robb Stark’s arms, and he seemed to be as happy about it as she was.

****

Robb was torn. Half of him wanted this song to go on forever. Myrcella felt so good in his arms, and he loved the way she curled into him. But on the other hand, Myrcella felt so good in his arms, and he really loved the way she curled into him. He was afraid that if it went on much longer he wouldn’t be able to hide just how much he loved it.

When her head fell back against his chest, his own fell down to hers without his permission. Her temple against his chin felt like an anchor. He wouldn’t even have noticed that the song changed if the people around him hadn’t started jumping wildly, some electronic song that was activating the substances in their bodies. 

Before he could stop himself he whispered in Myrcella’s ear, “Want to get some air?” and she only nodded against him.

Nodding at Jon to stay with Sansa, as if he would need to encourage him, he lead Myrcella through the party to take her out back. 

He saw her shiver when the cold air hit them, and he cursed himself for being a fool. Her dress was better suited to the Summer Isles than it was to the Northern chill and he shrugged off his blazer before wordlessly wrapping it around her shoulders.

Her face broke into a smile as her arms snaked into the sleeves. “Thanks,” she said and he could hear her teeth chattering, “I don’t usually…dress like this,” she finished and he could see her blush.

“I know – you usually wear sweaters, much more appropriate” he said and wanted to curse himself.

She looked at him slyly, too smart not to pick up on it, “I didn’t think you noticed…”

He rolls his eyes at her, “Ellie, I think you know that by now, the entire campus has noticed you.”

She giggles, “You mean they’ve noticed Sansa.”

He groans inwardly, knowing the following that his sister had already amassed. He had always known his sister would be beautiful, he had always known he would be over-protective, but he hadn’t anticipated having to look out for her as a brother and a father. Then he looks at the beauty in front of him. She had lost her own father, and her older brother was nothing like Robb. She had to make it on her own, with only her mother’s less than wise guidance. Could she really have remained so oblivious to the effect she had on men?

“Unfortunately, everyone has noticed both of you. Regardless of what you’re wearing.”

“You should tell Sansa that,” she says quickly and then stops abruptly, her plump lips falling into a perfect O as if she had surprised herself.

He narrows his eyes at her, “What do you mean?”

He sees her gulp, and is mesmerized by the way her chest rises and falls, realizing that he had never seen this graceful girl flustered. 

She breathes out in a huff, before she says, “She told me that if I wore this, I would have a better chance at attracting your attention.”

Robb feels his heart beat wildly, but he pulls her closer by the lapels of his blazer, opening it just slightly, not wanting to let the cold air in. 

He leans in and says in a low voice, her hair tickling his chin, “You mean this is for my benefit?” 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing and he doesn’t know what he expects her to say. He certainly didn’t expect her to raise her eyes defiantly to his and say, “Yes,” and he definitely didn’t expect to lean down and capture her lips in his, but nevertheless she did, and so did he.

****

Myrcella forgot the chill in the air the moment Robb’s lips touched hers. His were so soft, in such contrast to the rest of his body, which was all muscle, and they moved against hers so skillfully that her mind went fuzzy. 

She felt a sigh escape her lips as his tongue dipped into her mouth, and she moved her own against it, relishing the languorous way they danced together. She had kissed before, but never like this. 

Robb’s arms had encircled her waist underneath the blazer, and when he pulled her close her hands found his hair. She curled her fingers in his reddish-brown curls, and her nails scraped against him as he caught her bottom lip between his teeth. 

The moan that escaped her lips must have broken something in him, because all of a sudden he had moved away from her. She bowed her head in shame and as she was about to apologize, the screen door lurched open and Sansa half walked, half stumbled down the short steps.

Both Jon and Robb were on her in an instant, Jon had grabbed her waist from behind to steady her, as Robb braced himself in front in case she would fall. 

Despite the two boys’ attentions, it was Myrcella who Sansa turned to. A drunken smile on her face she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Myrcella’s neck.

“Ellie, Mellie, Cellie, Swellie,” Sansa slurred, “Did you know you’re my very bestest friend,” she stage-whispered in her ear.

Myrcella wobbled underneath her friend, but her arms came around Sansa’s waist protectively, cautioning Robb and Jon against approaching. She looked up at Sansa, a conspiratorial look in her eye, “And you are my very bestest friend,” and can’t help but giggle as her gorgeous friend plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She overhears Robb and Jon’s terse conversation, “What the fuck happened?” “I don’t know man, I went to the bathroom and when I came back she was downing some blue drink before I could stop her.” 

Myrcella’s head pops up, “Where did she get it?” 

“Some guy… I don’t know I got her out as quickly as I could”

Myrcella groaned, knowing that it was just as likely that adderal and Xanax was in that drink as vodka. Robb seemed to understand immediately and muttered, “I’m going to kill him!” 

“No,” Myrcella said forcefully, as she felt Sansa slump against her. As slender as her friend was, she was tall and Myrcella knew she wouldn’t be able to hold her up much longer. “She’s going to be fine, she just needs rest.” As she was talking, Sansa’s head had burrowed into her neck, “Please come grab her, I’m afraid I’m going to drop her.”

Myrcella could have laughed at how quickly Jon and Robb stepped forward, seemingly unaware of her struggle for the past few minutes.

As she transferred Sansa to Jon she lead them all to the front of the house, where there were sure to be cabs. “No I want Ellie…” Sansa whimpered.

Myrcella fought the urge to giggle as she hailed a taxi, opening the door so that the boys could lead Sansa in. 

The boys piled in on either side of her as Myrcella got in the front seat to give the driver the address of their dorm. Myrcella turned around to see Sansa’s head lifting of Jon’s shoulder to rest on Robb’s, whose arm easily went around his little sister, Jon still holding her hand, both of them looking intently at the beautiful girl between them. Not for the first time, Myrcella thought that for everything she had lost, Sansa Stark was still one of the luckiest girls in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Robb was seething the entire car ride. He wasn’t mad at Sansa, she was an innocent even now, but at whoever had given her that cup, whoever had made that punch. Robb wouldn’t let himself think about the girls who didn’t have a big brother or a cousin to watch out for them. He hoped they at least had a friend like Myrcella to watch out for them. 

He was so angry that it distracted him from what had happened before Sansa had stumbled out of the party. He watched Sansa intently the whole time. He knew Myrcella was right when she said Sansa would be fine. She wouldn’t need her stomach pumped, she would just need water and rest and would need to be monitored throughout the night. 

As they pulled up in front of the girls’ dorms, Myrcella paid the taxi as Robb and Jon pulled Sansa out. They tried to get her to walk, leaning on both of them, but it proved to be too difficult and Robb ended up just picking her up in his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder and he smelled her lemon shampoo and it reminded him of when she used to jump in his arms when she saw a spider at the lake house. She looked like such a little girl in his arms and he once again felt the devotion he knew he’d always feel towards his younger siblings.

As they got to the girls dorm room (mercifully the dorm had an elevator), Myrcella lead them in and Robb stopped short.

“Wow…uh this looks nothing like our dorm room did, huh Robb?” Jon says at his side, echoing his thoughts.

He looks at Myrcella who blushes, “Oh…yeah…my mother…she insisted,” as she shakes her head. 

The dorm room was more like an apartment, with a large common room, a common bathroom, and two individual bedrooms. 

She gestured to the closer room and said, “That’s Sansa’s, I’ll get her some water and maybe some toast.”

At that moment, Sansa’s eyes open and she looks at Robb first and says sternly, “Hello Robb,” then turns to Myrcella and says sweetly, “Hello Ellie,” then turns to Jon and with an unmistakable coo says, “Hello Jonnnn”.

Jon immediately colors as Robb rolls his eyes and carries her into her room, plopping her on the bed gently. She wrestles stubbornly with the covers as he takes off her shoes. When they both have finally succeeded she turns on her stomach as he sits on the edge of her bed. He hadn’t helped move her in, Uncle Edmure had while he and Jon took the younger kids on a camping trip. As he looked around the room he had to smile, it was so Sansa. Her bedspread was white with blue winter roses and she had her stuffed animal wolf he had given her when she had to leave Lady and the rest of them. 

“I’m sorry, Robbie,” she said sadly as she grabbed his hand.

He squeezes her hand gently, looking down at his favorite sister and said, “It’s okay San, that’s what big brothers are for.”

She looks up at him sheepishly and then says slyly, “At least I got Myrcella to bring you back to our room….” 

Before he can admonish her, she promptly falls asleep. He makes sure she is securely on her side before he shuts off the light and closes the door gently.

When he leaves the room he sees something he never would have expected. Jon Snow, wearing an apron and diligently following Myrcella’s instructions to stir. He finally thought about what had happened before the chaos, and smiled as Myrcella piled the counter high with blueberries and bananas and chocolate chips, looking much more herself in a pair of pink satin pajama bottoms and a fuzzy white sweater.

****

She hadn’t really thought of what it would be like when both he and Jon were in her apartment. She had tried to tell Jon that she would watch over Sansa, but had known right away that neither he nor Robb would budge. So instead, she figured the next best thing would be breakfast.

Not for the first time, she was thankful her mother had insisted on the apartment style room. Myrcella liked to cook and she knew some food would calm the boys’ nerves. She put on a pot of coffee and assembled the ingredients, leaving Jon to sit on the couch and find something to watch.

She was surprised when he had come over, telling her to ‘put him to work’. She giggled as he accepted the apron, it looked so out of place on his all black outfit. While they waited for the pan to heat she went and changed into a more comfortable outfit. She hadn’t completely thawed from being outside, and she couldn’t find it in her to care if it was weird to put on her pajamas. Something told her though that the two boys would not be fazed. 

She couldn’t help but laugh when she came to find Jon staring at the bowl of ingredients, unsure of how to proceed. He looked at her sheepishly and she realized that he had the same crinkly eye smile as Robb. “I swear, biochem I can handle but this is alluding me.”

She dug around for a whisk and says, “If you promise to handle the biochem, I promise to handle the cooking instructions.”

“An unbeatable team we will be” he says and she feels a warmth in her body, reminded of her little brother Tommen. 

“What in seven hells are you wearing?” she hears Robb ask Jon and she turns to him faux-defensively, holding her spatula in front of her like a sword, “You will not mock my sous-chef.” She has to fight a giggle as Jon gives Robb a look and points his thumb at Myrcella before crossing his arms with a ‘how about that?’ expression on his face.

Robb holds his hands up in the air, like he is afraid of being shot, “I surrender! I come in peace and hunger.”

She lowers her spatula and turns back to the stove, with a grin over her shoulder she says, “Fine, then you may choose your type of pancake.”

Her whole body warms in a completely different way when he crosses the room until he is behind her, one of his hands finding her waist as he scans the options before picking blueberry. 

“Rookie” Jon mutters (both of them were having chocolate chip) as she sprinkles blueberries on a few pancakes. 

Robb moves away from her to grab mugs for the coffee before taking out milk and sugar, and she is surprised at how easily these large men find their way around the little kitchen. 

They catch her looking and Robb says, “Sansa set up the kitchen right?” “Yes…” and the two boys share a look before Jon says, “Figures.”

When they all have enough pancakes on their plates to feed a small army she leads them over the couches, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She tosses the remote at Jon and says, “You guys really don’t have to stay, I can take care of her.”

Robb and Jon share a look, before Robb says, “I’m sure she can find no better care, but we uh… won’t leave her.”

Myrcella nods once. Sansa had told her how protective the boys were of her and she could see it in the way they both looked at her. She had always been the princess in their games of knights, had always been the sweetest of the Starks, and they would do anything for her. 

She won’t question it, why would she deny Sansa, and shrugs, “Then we better find something good to watch.”

Jon looks at them and says, “Maze of Lords?” and they both nod eagerly. 

****  
It had been so long since he had a home cooked meal. He and Jon shared an apartment but neither of them were much to brag about in the kitchen. Maybe it was the relief at Sansa being safe, or the comfort of her and Myrcella’s little home, but Robb could not remember a more satisfying meal then the blueberry pancakes.

They were halfway into the first episode of Maze of Lords when Myrcella got up, picking up the dishes. He grabbed his coffee cup and followed her into the kitchen.

She was at the sink, letting warm water fall over the dishes. She looked so small in her oversized sweater, and he couldn’t resist coming up behind her. He didn’t touch her, he just reached around her to put his coffee cup in the sink, before putting his arms on either side of her. 

Like she had when they were dancing she leaned her head back gently against is chest and he was surprised by how normal it felt. There was something about this girl that made him feel insanely comfortable, even as she excited him. He turned her gently and said, “So…about what happened before…”

Myrcella turns bright red and says, “Yeah…when you pulled away I thought maybe you regretted kissing me…”

“I did…kind of…” he says and then when he sees her face fall, he says quickly, “but not because I didn’t want to… trust me…I really wanted to. But you’re Sansa’s best friend and even though I’ve known you since you were born I never really…knew you….I didn’t want to rush anything.”

She looks at him and smiles lightly, probably trying not to laugh at his rambling. 

“So do you still regret it?”

“I couldn’t if I tried… do you?” 

Instead of answering him she reaches up and presses her lips to his, lightly, pulling way before it gets to intense. 

“Nope… I don’t think I regret it even a little bit,” she says slyly, before she walks around him, grabbing a glass of water, “I’m going to go check on Sansa.”

****

Myrcella first checked to make sure that Sansa was on her side, remembering the college orientation when they had been warned against the hazards of drinking. Content that she was in a safe position she put the glass of water and plate of crackers on her bedside table with two advil. She is about to leave when she notices Sansa’s face. So beautiful without it, her eyelids are covered in silvery shadow and liner. 

Myrcella’s mother hadn’t taught her much that she wanted to remember, but one thing she did know is that you always take off your make-up. 

Without really thinking about it she grabbed a make-up remover towelette and brought it gently to her friend’s face. Starting with her eyes, and working her way down her cheeks. She smiled as she saw her friend’s true face revealed, she looked so much younger without anything on. As she was about to finish, Sansa grabbed her hand.

“El?” 

“Yeah San? Do you need water?”

“Are they still here?” she asked before gratefully taking a sip.

“You know they are…”

“Are they mad?”

“Yes, but not at you…” Sansa grimaced and Myrcella couldn’t help but smooth her friend’s brow. 

“I almost kissed Jon…” Sansa mumbled, still half asleep. Myrcella had known her friend’s affection for her cousin and while she knew it was unorthodox, couldn’t find it in her to judge. 

“I did kiss Robb,” Myrcella says quietly and is shocked when her friend immediately sits up. 

She can tell she is about to ask more when her hand clamps over her mouth and Myrcella immediately grabs a wastebasket, pulling her friend’s long red hair away from her face.

****

They have been watching the show for a little while before Jon turns to him and says, “She’s been in there a while” which causes Robb to press pause on the show.

They can hear them speaking quietly, not really making out what they are saying, but all of a sudden they hear the sound of being sick and both rush to the bedroom.

He sees Myrcella, wrapped around Sansa, holding her hair and rubbing her back as his sister gets sick over and over again into her wastebasket. 

Jon is immediately at her side, his hand replacing Myrcella’s and cooing sweet, comforting words at Sansa. 

“Go awayyyy….” Sansa says and pushes Jon weakly and Robb knows that it is her vanity she is concerned with. 

He doesn’t know what to make of the connection that Jon and his sister seem to have, but if she wanted privacy than he was going to give it to her. He pulls Jon to his feet as he gives Myrcella a glance, mouthing ‘Thank you’. When she nods at him he turns and pulls Jon out of the room.

****

Myrcella isn’t sure how long she sits there in the dark with her friend, but Sansa must have gotten sick at least four more times before she can finally coax her into drinking some water and nibbling half a cracker. 

At some point, she had settled on the bed behind Sansa close to the wall. They didn’t talk much, just laid there in silence, and Myrcella knew that the two boys would be sitting having their own quiet vigil. She knew they were here for Sansa, but it comforted her all the same and she drifted off into sleep. 

When she woke, Robb was fumbling around in the room. “Robb?” she asked quietly, not wanting to wake Sansa.

“Yeah – sorry to wake you, I just wanted to replace the wastebasket in case she needed it again.”

“Here, can you help me up?” she said and could swear he smiled in the darkness when he saw how his sister was curled around her.

Between the two of them they extricated her from Sansa’s surprisingly strong grasp, and she somewhat stumbled into Robb as he helped steady her.

Wordlessly they left the room, confident that Sansa was through the worst of it. She looked at both the boys as they sat on the couch, their eyes were red rimmed and their expressions wan. 

“Have you two slept at all? Sansa’s okay now, you can afford to doze off for a bit.” She saw the two of them share a look and she nudged them on saying, “I got a few hours in and its light now… please at least one of you can take my room and the other can sleep on one of the couches.”

They both went to answer her but yawned instead. She stood up with her hands on her hips, “Enough…Jon – go lay down, Robb, I’m getting you a blanket and you are sleeping. That is final.”

****

How is it that she looked cute when she was bossing them around? How was it that an 18 year old girl could strike such fear in him and Jon? 

His cousin was notoriously opinionated, and Robb marveled as Myrcella practically pushed him into her room, returning back with one of the pillows and an extra throw blanket.

He fought the urge to smirk as she said, “Now you, lay down.”

“I bet that’s what you say to all the guys…” he jokes and she looks at him sternly.

He gratefully takes the pillow and kicks his shoes off as he leans back on the surprisingly comfortable couch. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks her as she drapes the blanket over him.

She now looks nervous, her forcefulness gone, “I-I already slept.”

“If you think I am sleeping and you’re not you have another thing coming, Baratheon.”

She moves to go to the other couch, awkward for the first time this evening and Robb wordlessly lifts the blanket up, beckoning her to lay next to him. He sees her hesitate for only a moment before she crawls in next to him. He lies on his back, and pulls Myrcella to him. 

Lying there with her head on his chest, he rubs her back, loving the way her soft sweater and slender body feels underneath his hand. She hitches a silk clad leg over him, and the last thing he thinks before he falls asleep is how very right it feels.

****

Myrcella had never, in her life, woken up in the arms of a boy. But then again, she had never known a boy like Robb Stark. She looked up at him, his strong features slightly slack in sleep. His eyelashes were longer than any boys’ had the right to be and his jaw was so square that she fought the urge to graze it with her teeth. 

He was holding onto her so tightly, and she burrowed into him further, her arm extending over his taut stomach, loving the feeling of his body underneath her. 

He must have sensed her moving, because she feels him shift before he says in his Northern drawl, “I could get use to waking up like this…”

Myrcella feels herself blush but she peers up at him, “Good…because I definitely plan on repeating this….” then she stretches awkwardly, “Though maybe next time in a bed…”

“You gave it away, rookie mistake.”

“I didn’t want Jon to get the wrong idea!” she says indignantly and can feel as much as hear Robb chuckle beneath her. 

The sound sends delicious shivers through her body and she makes a mental note to make him laugh more often. He turns serious, suddenly and asks quietly, “Would it be so bad?”

She wants to make another joke, but stops herself. “No – I just…am not a first night kind of girl….” She says, feeling the heat in her cheeks.

He chuckles again, though she hadn’t meant to be funny and says, “Myrcella, there isn’t a person on the planet who could think that you are. And there will be as many nights as you need… if you want them that is…” and it is his turn to blush.

“I definitely want them,” she says and reaches up to catch his lips with hers. 

They melt into each other as he turns on his side so that they are facing. His kisses are leaving her breathless and he finally gives her mouth respite, only to press them to her neck. Her breath hitches as his hand pulls her leg further over his, and her hands scrunch in his shirt. 

“Ahem” she hears and nearly falls off the couch at the sound. Luckily Robb catches her and she peers up to see Jon looking over them, with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. 

“Bastard…” Robb mumbles grumpily before an embarrassed giggle escapes her lips. 

She straightens up and meets Jon’s mirthful gaze, and she can’t help but smile. She can tell that he is delighted to find Robb in this position and knows there is no judgment. Robb follows her lazily, and she knows that he is still wrapped around her because he doesn’t want her to be embarrassed.

She is about to suggest coffee, when Sansa stumbles out of her room, still in her dress from the night before and demands it.

Without looking at one another, all three of them point towards the bathroom and say “Shower.” 

Sansa, realizing she had clearly missed something, looks at the three new friends in bewilderment before following their advice. 

When they hear the water going, they all fall into different tasks to prepare coffee and breakfast. 

****  
Robb looks at Myrcella in fear as she sets the pile of food down in front of him and he can see Jon looking at her with the same expression. It is Sansa who finally emerges from the bathroom, wearing flannel pajama pants and an old sweatshirt of his who eases their worry.

As she plops down in her seat, she looks at Myrcella in gratitude and says, “Hangover helper, thanks be to the gods…” before digging in, obvious pleasure on her face.

Robb takes a tentative bite and fights the urge to moan before looking at Myrcella in wonder.

“You can’t be Robert Baratheon’s daughter and not know how to cure a hangover…” she says with a shrug causing them all to laugh.

“Ellie you are a saint!” Sansa says as she finishes her second helping.

“Don’t you mean Ellie, Mellie, Cellie, Swellie?” Robb asks her in a teasing voice.

They had reassured Sansa that nothing bad had happened to her, and he and Jon were now set on teasing her mercilessly.

She glares at them and Myrcella says kindly, “Don’t listen to them…I’m glad you feel better.” 

Jon looks at him and says, “See this is why she is the very bestest friend ever.” At that even Myrcella breaks down and starts giggling shooting apologies towards her friend. 

Myrcella’s giggle is so girlish and carefree that he and the others can’t help but join in. 

****

Despite the eggs, Sansa was still horribly hungover, and for their part, Myrcella, Jon and Robb had hardly slept at all. She wasn’t sure who suggested it, but somewhere it had been decided that Robb and Jon would go home and change, before coming back here for a Maze of Lords marathon. 

“Please…” she had heard Sansa say before the boys left. 

“They aren’t allowed in here,” Jon returns. 

“Who is going to say anything? It’s not like once they are here anyone will notice, you just have to get them in!”

“Fine, San, we’ll try,” Robb conceded.

Before they left Sansa had called after them, “And Ellie and I aren’t venturing out of pajamas today so if you two come back in anything that doesn’t have an elastic waistband you will look like fools indeed!”

The girls took advantage of the time alone and cleaned up the apartment quickly, before Myrcella hopped in the shower. She felt a little silly showering only to put on fresh pajamas, but she could still feel the night on her. 

Her hair freshly combed, she met Sansa in the living room, and sat next to her on the couch, lifting the blanket so she could huddle up next to her friend. 

“So…you almost kissed Jon?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you told me…”

“Did you kiss Robb or did I dream it?”

“I definitely kissed Robb…” she says and looks at her friend somewhat shamefaced. Sansa had encouraged her to go for Robb, but even still she wouldn’t be surprised if it was weird for her that something had happened. She needn’t have worried because Sansa immediately squealed and pestered her for details. 

****

Robb and Jon walked back into the girl’s apartment to find them in a fit of laughter, and Robb had to fight the urge to laugh when Grey Wind and Ghost attacked his sister. 

She squealed as the two wolves jumped on the couch, smothering her with affection before Grey Wind plopped down directly on Myrcella’s lap.

“Grey Wind, down!” Robb explained, worried that Myrcella might not want an enormous beast on top of her. But then he saw the way that Myrcella wrapped her arms around his wolf, holding him to her as he settled on her lap, looking at Robb much more smugly than any animal had the right to. 

“Ellie doesn’t mind,” Sansa says as she buries her face in Ghost’s fur, clearly missing Lady. 

Myrcella peers over the beast and gives him a warm smile before patting the spot next to her. 

He and Jon each hold up their swag, he holds a bottle of gin, Jon a bottle of whiskey, “A little hair of the dog?” “Aye!” the girls agree and squeal again as the wolves lick their faces. 

****

Myrcella was buzzed. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but she had been so comfortable sitting on the couch next to Robb, with Grey Wind resting on both of them. 

Jon and Sansa were in a similar position on the opposite couch and they had watched episode after episode. Someone had suggested the game halfway through the second episode. You had to take a sip anytime the evil queen did, three sips when someone died, and you had to finish your drink if a main character did.

Someone made a stupid joke as a character got a spear through the eye, and from the fits of giggles that erupted from her companions it seemed they had all fallen prey to the game just as much as she did. 

It was Sunday and she had piles of homework to do, but as a new episode started and Robb snuggled in closer, she couldn’t find it in her to care.


	3. Chapter 3

Robb was checking his pockets for the third time in the space of ten minutes when Jon finally said, “Dude, it’s Ellie. Why are you nervous?”

“Because it’s Ellie” Robb returned petulantly. 

They had both taken to using Sansa’s nickname for her ever since that day in their apartment. They had become a foursome after that day, going to the library together, football games, even home to Winterfell, and before they knew it they were nearing the fall break. 

Robb was pretty sure he was falling in love with Ellie. He thought about her constantly and missed her all the time when she wasn’t around. He had originally thought it would be weird to date such a close friend of his sister’s but he found it to be the opposite. Seeing Ellie and Sansa together only made him care for her more, loving the way her lightness brought out the best in his sister. Even Jon was lighter around her, he joked more, and he gave into her more than he did with anyone, except maybe Sansa. It wasn’t rare for Jon to pick up Myrcella from class, escorting her through campus like Robb did with Sansa.

Robb had stayed true to his word. He had never pressured her for more than she was ready to do, even though they spent every day and most nights together and he felt himself slowly descending into madness. He couldn’t even look at other girls now, it was like she had bewitched him. And every night they lay in bed together she dared a little bit further, held him a little bit tighter. 

They had done, stuff… but they had never had sex. He knew she was a virgin and he liked her even more for it. She was too precious to waste on someone who wouldn’t appreciate her. Even if he felt unworthy, he knew that there is no one who could care for her more than he did. 

In truth, he would have waited for her forever, and they had never really talked about it after that first day. That was why he was so surprised when he received the text during his microeconomics class, “I’m ready. Come over tonight after my Valyrian lit class.” 

Robb hadn’t been able to concentrate the rest of class and the rest of the day had flown by in a blur. That was how he found himself standing in his living room like an idiot as he checked his pockets again. Even the wolves were looking at him with pity. 

“Exactly it’s Ellie. You guys are perfect together. It would somewhat sickening if I didn’t love you both. I know you want it to be perfect for her but there’s no such thing…. Just be nice to her.” 

He wanted to roll his eyes at the painfully obvious advice but smiled at his friend, “Thanks man, it’s just… it’s”

“Ellie” Jon finished as Robb nodded. “Well don’t worry…if I remember correctly the girls can’t get enough of the Young Wolf once they’ve had a taste…” Jon says teasingly as Robb chucks a pillow at him. 

He is grabbing his keys when Sansa comes in, not bothering to knock. The wolves rise to greet her as she settles into the couch next to Jon. 

Robb raises his eyebrows and she looks at him and says, “Myrcella looks hot – you’re going to die,” before she takes Jon’s beer out of his hand and takes a sip. 

“Thanks for that,” he says in a long suffering tone and leaves the apartment with their laughter behind him. If it was any other night he probably would have hesitated leaving Sansa and Jon alone, but Myrcella was waiting for him and from what Sansa had said, he better hurry.

****

“Stop it. Stop freaking out. Grow up.” She said in the mirror. 

She had been saying this mantra off and on all afternoon, pausing briefly when Sansa was home, not wanting her to see her losing it.

Myrcella paused her sad little pep talk to appraise herself in the mirror. Her hair was curled lightly, and her face was free of make up. She was wearing a cream tank top and figure hugging jeans, and Myrcella knew that underneath her cream lace bra and panties were hugging her just as tightly. 

She gave herself one last look, before grabbing a bottle of wine from the kitchen and taking two large glasses out of the cabinet. As she uncorked the bottle she heard a soft knock as Robb peered in. 

He looked devastating in jeans and a light blue button up, his beard trimmed and his gaze drinking her in. 

She tried for nonchalance, “Wine?” “Please” he said and she smiled at his formal tone, relieved that he was nervous too.

She poured him a glass and felt her hand shake. He must have seen it too because he came up behind her and took the bottle from her hands, pouring the wine easily and setting the bottle back on the table. 

He took both glasses and settled onto the couch, and she found herself following before settling in next to him, gratefully taking the glass he offered.

“Ellie…just because you sent this text doesn’t mean…nothing has to happen tonight, okay?” he says before taking a sip of their favorite Dornish cabernet. 

“No, not okay.” She says and takes another sip before setting both glasses down on the table. 

He looks at her with a question in his eyes and she says, “I want you. Badly. Tonight,” and hears him groan out “Thank the gods” before attacking her lips. 

****

Her admission had been so sweet and so brave and so sexy. Robb couldn’t help but attack her. 

The wine forgotten, he pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. His hands pushed the straps of her tank top and bra aside as he pressed kisses to her collarbone. He felt her hands in his hair, which always drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but grab her perfect ass with both hands. 

He reveled in hearing her moan, and when she grinded into him, he didn’t even try to hide his own. 

Her lips kissed up his neck, before her lips found his ear and sucked on its lobe. He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head and he shoved himself off the couch, taking her with him and carrying her to the bedroom. 

When they got there he fought the urge to throw her on the bed and instead set her down on his feet. He looked in her eyes as he held the hem of her shirt, wordlessly she lifted her arms up, allowing him to take it off of her. Her body was perfect, so smooth, and still sunkissed. Her bra was all lace and he was mesmerized by the patterns of skin peaking through. He kissed her chest, kissed her breasts over her bra before falling to his knees in front of her and kissing her stomach. 

He undid the button of her jeans and shimmied them down her legs, picking up her toned calves one at a time so she could step out of them. He looked up at her again as he pulled down her panties with both hands. 

Her breath hitched as he pressed a kiss to her cunt. He had touched her here, but never kissed her and had been dying to taste her. She didn’t disappoint and his tongue slid over her desperately. 

He looked up at her and saw her eyes mesmerized at his motions. He gave her a wolfish grin as he slid a finger inside of her, knowing she loved the feeling of him. He kept eye contact with her as he let his tongue flick her nub at the same time as he added another finger and groaned as her head fell back in pleasure.   
She was leaning into him now, and he wasn’t sure if it was for support or to ensure that he would keep going but he couldn’t find it in him to care. She tasted so sweet and his cock throbbed at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers. 

“Please, please” he heard her say, and he knew he was torturing her with the slow pace that he moved in and out of her. 

He would always give her what she wanted, and he increased his pace, curling his fingers just so as he pressed his tongue against her nub and when she cried out in pleasure it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

****

She could hardly stand. Robb was still on his knees before her, now holding onto the backs of her thighs to steady her as she recovered. He had always known exactly how to touch her, and she had often come apart in his overly capable hands. But nothing could have prepared her for the feel of his tongue against her.

She was desperate to kiss him and pulled him up to his feet, not even letting him straighten all the way before pressing her lips to his. He tasted different, and she supposed he tasted like her, but she didn’t care. When his tongue entered her mouth she felt it everywhere and moaned wantonly into his mouth. 

Wild now she tugged his shirt over his head before kissing him again. He seemed willing to give into her demands as he crushed her against his body as he unclasped her bra, the flimsy fabric falling to the floor. Irrationally she didn’t want to step away, but forced herself to as she undid his jeans. She pulled them down along with his boxers and her eyes filled with flames when she saw how hard he was for her. 

Eager to make him feel as good as he had made her, she goes to kneel down before he grabs her underneath both arms. “Not a chance, Ellie,” and pushed her back onto the bed. She was like a feather in his arms as he moved her back so that she could rest her head on the pillows. He hovered over her and Myrcella saw a foil packet on the side of the nightstand. 

“We don’t have to use one…I’m on the pill.”

“Since when?” he asked and she smiled at his curiosity. He asked it so calmly even though she could feel his erection between them.

“After that first night…” she said and he kissed her again, clearly happy that she had thought ahead. 

“Are you sure…I mean I can still wear it…just in case.” He says as he peppers kisses up and down her arms. 

“No no I want to feel you, please, please I’m ready,” she hears herself whimper. 

His face hovers over hers and he says in a low voice, “Another night not far from now, I am going to relish in hearing you beg so sweetly for me like you just did, but the gods know that tonight I have neither the desire nor the strength to do so.”

Myrcella heard herself gasp as she felt him at her opening, but she spread her legs wider for him all the same. 

“This may hurt my darling, I’m so sorry, dig your nails into me any time that it does.”

“Don’t worry, please Robb, please” she says and feels him enter her slowly.

She feels no pain at first, only a stretching, as he kisses her neck, but as he enters her further, her breath hisses as she feels him pressing against something, and her nails dig into his skin as he pushes into her entirely. 

There are tears in her eyes as he settles inside her, not moving, letting her adjust to him. She moves to do so and hears him groan. A wave of pleasure rushes through her at the sound and she moves her hips again chasing it. Her efforts are rewarded as his hand grabs her hip. 

“Make love to me, I want you to,” she says and feels him start to move against her. 

He moves slowly and she delights in the feeling of him moving in her. When she starts to moan, he rolls over, bringing her with him so that she is sitting astride him. 

Myrcella repeats her movements from before, rolling her hips on him, and his face contorts in pleasure. She takes up a pace, quicker than his, and loves the power she has over him as she moves. 

“Fuck, Ellie, I’m not going to last long darlin’” he says and nearly slurs the last word. 

She starts moving on him faster, desperate to bring him to his peak, and cries out as his thumb finds her nub. The combination of the pressure, the feel of him moving inside of her, and the sounds coming from him is dizzying and when he leans up and catches a nipple in his mouth she hears a final moan escape her lips. His follows quickly behind and they collapse onto the bed, he pushes her gently off of him, letting her fall to her side on the bed as he turns on his to face her. 

She is still coming down from the pleasure of it all when he traces the side of her face with an index finger and says quietly, his gaze intent on hers, “I love you, Myrcella Baratheon. I think I’m going to love you forever.”

She smiles even as there are tears in her eyes and says, her hand holding his chin, “You better Robb Stark, for that is how long I fear I will love you.” Before leaning in to kiss him again. 

****  
“So that’s a yes,” she said as her blue eyes narrowed.

“That’s an I don’t want to talk about it,” he hears himself say in an exasperated tone. 

“You really are no fun, Jon Snow,” Sansa says to him teasingly. 

“Then why is it that you are here, exactly?”

“Charity work…” she says before saying quickly, “Just kidding…I’m here for Ghost and Grey Wind too,” her pink lips revealing perfect teeth as her smile widens.

If she were Arya, he would attack her with tickles until she was squealing, but this was Sansa. He was afraid of what would happen, and hated himself for that fear. It was so easy with Arya, she was just his little cousin who he loved dearly, more like a sister than anything else. They had always been close, and looked as alike as Robb and Sansa did. With Sansa though… definitely not easy he thought as she stretched her slim legging clad legs in his lap, taking a sip of her beer.

“Just say it once,” she said, nudging his leg with her foot. 

“Okay yes, I think they are probably fucking right now. Are you happy?”

She pretends to think about it and says, “Yes. And at least someone is fucking…” she adds and immediately turns red.

His heart thuds in his chest as he extricates himself from her legs under the guise of getting more beer from the fridge. 

“So uh… nothing ever happened with that guy, what’s his name, Ramsay?”

“Ew no, he was such a creep. I found all these weird drawings one day and haven’t been able to look at him since.” She says and he hates himself for sighing in relief at that.

Her voice gets closer until she is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, “And besides, how could I meet anyone when I spend all my time with you and Robb?”

He lets himself smile at her smugly, “Ah then, our plan has worked perfectly.”

It is her turn to look smug when she says, “See but that’s where I get confused… I know why Robb does it…but why do you?”

Jon gulps as she looks at him expectantly.

****

Her face was a calm mask, but inside her body was filled with nerves. She couldn’t believe her daring, but she had been driven mad by none other than her cousin Jon Snow.

They spent every day together, and given that most of their time was with Myrcella and Robb on road trips and going to the movies and lazy Sundays, she often felt like they already were a couple. Though they were missing one very key component in Sansa’s mind.

She didn’t know how long she had a crush on Jon, but she knew it had developed around the time her parents died. He had been in his freshman year of college, but he still came home all of the time to help her and Robb with the kids. He was the only one who could reach Arya and she found herself craving the comfort Arya felt with him. 

She had always been closer with Robb, he had always been her protector, her hero, even before their parents passed away. But she was 14 when it happened and she was feeling things she never had before. 

Her feelings had only increased since she started at university, and she could swear he felt something too. That was how she found herself staring down her cousin, hoping he would tell her he wanted her.

“What do you mean why? The same reason Robb does…” he says nervously.

“I don’t believe you,” she says defiantly and forces her lower lip to stop trembling. 

“Well whether you believe it or not it’s true…” he says defensively.

She looks at him indignantly and then clucks her tongue saying, “Fine. If that’s all it is then I think I will go somewhere that I am actually wanted….” She says and turns to leave the room to grab her stuff, desperate to get out of there before she starts crying. 

As she turns though, he grabs her forcefully by the arm and presses her to the fridge, his lips capturing hers in a toe-curling kiss. It seems to go on forever as she melts into him, and wants to protest when he finally pulls away, ”You are wanted here, Sansa, and I am going to spend time in every one of the Seven Hells for it,” he says gruffly as he leans in to suck her bottom lip gently before letting his lips graze her ear, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

She can’t remember her name, where she is, or anything that isn’t involved with his hands on her body, but somehow she sighs out, “Yes,” before he captures her mouth again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written Jon and Sansa before - let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Robb woke to find Myrcella Baratheon lying naked beside him. Lying on her stomach, her head facing towards him, her golden waves disheveled from their lovemaking, she was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He lay on his side, propping himself up so that he may look upon her. As if they had minds of their own, his fingers reached out to trace up and down the path of her spine. Her skin was so smooth, and he couldn’t resist flattening his palm against her, feeling the comforting beat of her heart.

He had told other girls that he loved them, and he had believed it then, but he realized now how young he had been. Ellie had taken him by surprise. He had always known her to be a sweet, lively girl, her blond pigtails often shaking with laughter at their lake house. He hadn’t expected her to consume him the way that she did, but his world now rose and fell with her smile. 

“Stop staring, weirdo” he heard her mumble, and his blue eyes crinkled at her when he saw a sleepy green one pop open. 

“I see how it is, now that you’ve had your way with me…” he said with a fake sigh.

Suddenly awake she rolled on her side, facing him, before falling back and pulling him on top of her. 

He held his weight, not wanting to crush her, and suppressed a groan as her calves snaked over his as she spread her legs underneath him. 

She was looking up at him with a smile close to bursting, “Yes?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

“We made love…” she says conspiratorially.

“I know, I was there,” he says teasingly, bumping his nose against hers.  
“I’d like to do it again,” she says, as though it’s something she has long considered.

Robb feels himself grow hard instantly at her words, but he enjoys the playfulness he has with Myrcella, the way it mixes with their passion. 

“Is that so?” he asks as he lightly trails his fingers up her thigh, finally letting out a groan when his fingers find her warm, wet cunt. 

“Y-yes,” she says, her breath hitching as he pushes two fingers inside of her. He lets his thumb roam over her nub as he moves his fingers in and out of her, ensuring that she is ready for him. 

“Your wish is my command, Ellie,” he says as he positions himself at her entrance. 

“You aren’t going to make me beg?” she asks with a sly smile, rolling her hips against him, his tip just entering her. 

“Maybe later,” he growls out as he thrusts inside of her with a cry. 

Their playfulness is gone as they find their way together. Myrcella hitches a leg up so that it falls over his butt and his fingers dig into her thigh as he moves in her. She feels so good and the sounds she is making are dizzying. 

Her other leg hitches over him and her arms go around his neck, clinging to him as he moves against her mercilessly. He fears he may hurt her, his pace is not gentle and he know she must be sore from the night before, but every time he slows she urges him faster, and every time he grabs her she only pulls him closer. 

“Robb, you feel so good, my love, please, please take me I am yours.”

“Ellie, fuck I am not going to last long with you talking like that,” he says desperately. 

She rolls her hips against him and lets out a sharp moan. He leans down and kisses her breasts, as she takes up a prayer, “Yours, yours all yours.”

He looks down at her, this beautiful girl, his only love, and as he hears her surrender herself to him, he loses himself as well. 

****

“No…” she hears herself say stubbornly. 

“Ellie, it’s only a couple of weeks…”

“That’s easy for you to say Robb, you’ll be skiing with your entire blessed family while I waste away in Dorne of all places with her.”

“Ellie, she’s your mother,” he says carefully, and she knows it pains him to defend her, even with as obvious a statement as that.

They are standing in her living room, her suitcase between them. Snowpants and bikinis are strewn about. He has been packing her up for her family vacation, she for his. 

She puts her hands on her hips, “Robb she’s awful…” as she defiantly throws another turtleneck in. 

He groans in frustration as he chucks the sweater across the room, before angrily folding a sundress. She bites back a laugh, only Robb could look angry while holding something so light and pink. 

He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted when Robb and Sansa burst in. 

“Oh good, you’re packing!” Sansa says as she retrieves the burgundy sweater that had landed on the tv and folding it gingerly before putting it in the suitcase. Sansa winks at Myrcella as Robb glares at his beloved sister. 

Jon, who had been talking on his cell phone, turns to them all, oblivious and says, “El – that dress is a little skimpy for the Vale, don’t you think?”

“She’s not coming to the Vale!” Robb thunders, causing them all to look at him. 

He looks so stern that Myrcella hesitates to say anything further but Jon doesn’t share her hesitation and he says, “Well good luck breaking the news to Rickon…” 

Robb opens his mouth to say something, before closing it quickly. She ignores the giggles of Sansa and Jon when she walks over to Robb, placing her hands on his chest.

“Don’t you want me to spend the holidays with your family?” she asks quietly.

His eyes close as he rubs her arm, “You know I do.”

“Then why are you pushing this?”

“Because… it’s your family. You haven’t seen them since you’ve gotten to school. You spent the midterm break at Winterfell. I just don’t want…” he says before trailing off.

“Don’t want what?” she asks, and is suddenly nervous that she had overstayed her welcome. She had always been invited and had never hesitated because she loved his family. But now she was wondering if she had pushed herself in where she wasn’t wanted.

He lets out an exasperated sigh before saying, “I don’t want your mother to hate me for taking you away from her.” 

Her heart breaks a little at the admission. She had fallen in so easily with his siblings but he had never met her family. 

She thinks on it for a moment before saying, “She hates everyone who isn’t her children… and some days I’m not even sure I make the list. But if it’s what you want…I’ll go,” she says and her face falls at the thought of it.

He presses kisses to her forehead, and she relaxes at his touch. 

“You’ll see, it won’t be so bad. You’ll read and sunbathe and spend your days with Tommen,” he says and her heart thaws a little at the thought of her younger brother. It melts completely when he finishes, “And I will miss you desperately and curse myself every day for suggesting it.” 

She looks at him, her usual smile returning, “Promise?” 

“Promise,” he says sincerely before kissing her knuckles, sending a delicious shiver through her.

****

It wasn’t a hard promise to keep. Even as he had packed Ellie up, he knew he would regret it. 

Jon had been right, Rickon pouted the first half of the trip, saying that only Ellie would be nice enough to wait for him to get down the hill. He made it up to him finally, when he took him dogsledding just the two of them. Robb’s mood had lifted as well as he and Rickon cut through the clear day, holding on tight, the younger boy’s shrieks of delight echoing through the forest. 

He spoke to Ellie every day, and he could see the bridge of her nose growing pinker every morning in the selfies she sent him at his request. 

He was having a wonderful time with his family. Uncle Edmure had stayed behind to work, and he, his siblings and Jon, wreaked havoc in the little mountain town. Everyone there knew the Starks and there were parties every night for the older ones (they finally let Arya come this time) and Rickon and Bran were showered with attention by friends of their parents. 

He worked a lot as well. Jon Umber and the board met here every holiday season, as they all had been coming here every year like his family did. He had been attending the meeting every year since he had turned 12, his father priming him even that to take over. He had always enjoyed it, and this year was much the same, and as he sat at the head of the table, he felt ready to begin his role as CEO. 

Five more months of being a kid he had thought before correcting himself. He hadn’t been a kid in years, and this was his birthright. 

****

“We have to,” Jon said adamantly. 

“But-“ Sansa heard herself start to protest before he cut her off.

“No Sansa, we were supposed to tell them at Midterm break and we put it off. It’s time, Bran almost walked in on us this morning…”

“Don’t exaggerate!” she said as she rolled her eyes stubbornly, not being able to resist getting a rise out of him.

“Sansa, you were underneath my comforter with my cock in your mouth, who needs to exaggerate?!” he says and as if he hadn’t thought the statement through before, let’s out a chuckle. 

“I thought you liked that…” she says as she moves into his arms, loving the way his automatically came around her, even when she annoyed him. 

He looks down at her sternly, which only makes her smile, before he sighs, “I do, that’s the problem. This – us – isn’t going away… I love you too much… but I love them too. I don’t want to lie to them anymore.”

Her heart melts at that, as her head falls against his chest, “I don’t either. And I’m not ashamed of us, whatever you may think. I am yours and you are mine, and if the gods want to judge us for loving, then to the Seven Hells with them as well.”

“Who knows, maybe they won’t care? Robb got over it.” 

“Only because Ellie made him feel like an idiot,” she says and smiles sadly, wishing her beautiful best friend was here, knowing she would find a way to make everyone feel better. 

Jon chuckles against her, as he rubs her back, and she knows he is thinking of the day they had told Robb. She had been so nervous, mostly for Jon, and Robb had been furious, though admittedly not wholly surprised. Ellie had been calm, she had already known of course, and when Robb’s anger peaked she had very calmly told him that if he was the type of person to deny happiness to his cousin, and love to his sister, than he was a fool indeed and one who may not deserve any of them after all. That had gotten her brother’s attention, and it wasn’t long before he came around, now initiating double dates as often as the rest of them did. 

“Blessed girl…” Jon said, and Sansa smiled at how much he loved her best friend.

She took a deep breath before pulling away. “We’ll tell them tonight after dinner. Everyone will be home – Robb will help us.”

Her worry was forgotten the moment his lips touched hers, and she held onto him tightly, chasing the oblivion his body always brought her.

****  
“Do you think you’ll ever move back south?” her little brother asks her, as she looks up from her book.

“I don’t know Tommy, I haven’t even finished my first year of university yet…”

“But you’re not coming home at the end of term, aren’t you getting some internship with Sansa?”

Myrcella’s stomach fluttered at the thought of it. The girls had planned on spending the three month break in one of their families’ townhouses in the Riverlands, Sansa working at Margery Tyrell’s fashion label, and Myrcella working for Varys Publishing. 

“That isn’t set in stone yet. Mother hasn’t given me her permission…”

“You know she will. She’s happy to get rid of both of us as long as Joffrey stays around.”

Myrcella fought back angry tears as she looked at her lonely little brother. She had long been indifferent to their mother’s indifference, but Tommen, so young when their father had died, still craved approval from the one parent he still had. 

She looks at him brightly, determined to cheer this sweet sad boy, “Who knows, maybe you could come and stay with me? Mother and Joffrey will retire to Casterly Rock with Grandfather and I am sure we could find something to amuse you.”

“Really? Could I bring Ser Pounce?” he asked eagerly, looking so much younger than his fourteen years.

“I insist,” she says solemnly, finally earning a giggle. 

****

Why did he and Robb insist on doing things that would cause them pain? He knew Robb hadn’t wanted Ellie to go away with her family, and Jon didn’t want to tell the kids (that is the way he, Sansa and Robb would always view the younger Starks) about him and Sansa. 

He blamed his Uncle Eddard. He had been the only father Jon had ever known and he had been present and subject to his many lessons on duty, on the difference between right and wrong. He smiled at that, relieved that even if he and Robb were miserable, he knew they were making Uncle Ned proud. He wondered how he and Aunt Cat would react to the news of him and Sansa. Not well probably, but he liked to think that they would come around when they saw how happy they were.

He had fought falling in love with Sansa for so long, that when he finally allowed himself to, he fell in all at once. He loved her quick mind, her teasing wit, her caring heart. He loved the way she mothered the kids and babied even Robb at times when she felt he needed it. He loved her tall, divine body, and her silky red hair. And he loved how she loved him – the certainty of it cutting through even his darkest moments of self-hate.

His family was all gathered now, satiated after a feast prepared by Sansa and Bran, strewn about the various couches and chairs. Their wolves were assembled on the floor in a pack in front of the fire, as happy to be reunited as they were.

He met Robb’s eyes and nodded, counting on his support, knowing that the kids would always listen to their big brother eventually.

“Guys…Jon has something to tell you…” Robb says, and Jon can hear the tightness in his voice, bracing himself like Jon was for the fight to come.

Jon opens his mouth to speak but finds no words. That is until he looks at Sansa. Rickon is cuddled into his sister’s side as she strokes his hair, and the smile she gives Jon is so serene and full of love that he finds his own echoing it. 

“There is no easy way to say this… but … Sansa and I love each other… I mean…we are in love with each other.”

Three sets of eyes stare back at him wordlessly.

He wasn’t much of a talker unless he was nervous and found himself filling the silence, “We uh…are together…we have been…since…”

“Midterm break at least,” Arya finishes.

“W-what?” Jon asks, and sees Sansa and Robb straighten up just like he had.

“We saw you guys kissing when you came back from the pub…” Bran says, and Jon is surprised that there is no anger there, just explanation.

“We didn’t want to tell you guys until we were sure it was real,” Sansa says and he can hear his own incredulity in her tone.

“Please, you two are so obvious,” Rickon says and Jon hears Robb laugh at how long-suffering the littlest Stark sounds. 

“So how long has it been?” Arya asks and Sansa answers, “We got together the week before Midterm break.”

“Ha! You owe me two Copper Stars!” Bran says triumphantly to Arya as Rickon turns to Sansa and asks, “Is there any dessert left?”

Jon turns to Robb, who only shrugs. So much for breaking the news gently, he thinks, and sits back relieved that nothing had changed, hoping that nothing ever would.


	5. Chapter 5

“Is it delayed?” Jon asks Sansa who shrugs behind him, looking at the screen announcing arrivals.

Robb was starting to regret allowing them to tag along to pick up Ellie from the airport. It had been three weeks since he saw her last and he missed her so much it had become a physical ailment. He was shamed by his unkind thoughts though as he saw his sister and cousin peering through the crowd, nearly as anxious to see her as he was.

Sansa spotted her first, and Robb had to blink before he registered the goddess walking towards him. She was the same Ellie, in her dark jeans and fuzzy cream sweater, with a renewed tan and a deeper lightness in her hair, but since they had gotten together they had never spent more than three nights apart. 

She hadn’t seen them yet, and he saw her eyes scanning the airport for him. “Ellie!” Jon shouts eagerly, waving his arms over his head. 

Her face breaks into a wide smile and she lets out a little squeal and his legs move forward on their own accord. She rushes to him as well and jumps into his waiting arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she leans into kiss him. 

The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough for Robb’s liking but when she pulls away her smile is goofy and she plants a kiss on his cheek before hopping down.

Jon is next, he nearly barrels her over in a bear hug, stage-murmuring “Ellie, Mellie, Cellie, Swellie,” as she giggles like a little girl, burrowing into his embrace.

Myrcella comes to Sansa next and the two girls kiss each others’ cheeks, before walking towards the car with their arms wrapped around each other.

“You’ll get those, right boys?” Ellie turns over her shoulder to him and Jon with a lilting voice, gesturing towards her two enormous suitcases.

Sansa giggles as she rests her head on her friend’s shoulders, and Robb and Jon find themselves wordlessly trailing the two beauties, suitcases in hand.

****  
The rest of the semester flies by in a haze. Jon and Robb are eagerly finishing up their final year, and Sansa and Myrcella find their second semester far more challenging than the first.

It is a dizzying four months for Myrcella, though nothing much in her life changes. She stays happily in a whirlwind of studying and parties and nights with Robb. 

8 months into their relationship and more in love than ever, they plan diligently for her end of year break. She had finally gotten her mother’s permission to work in the Riverlands with Sansa and they would be staying in her Uncle Renly’s vacant townhouse.

Robb was going to be in Winterfell with Jon, they would both be starting at the company, Robb as CEO & President, and Jon as the CFO. The board hadn’t even balked at the idea, they knew the cousins were a package deal and had come to trust the ‘Young Wolves’.

She and Sansa would visit on weekends and the boys would have to travel to the Riverlands frequently for work. It wasn’t ideal to be separated from Robb, but in truth, she wanted to give him the time to settle into his new role and give it the care it deserved. 

She knew she would miss him, but she was more nervous for her mother to meet Robb when they all moved her and Sansa in than anything else that might come their way.

****

He couldn’t believe he had finally graduated. For years he had waited for it, seeing it as a means to an end, but when it finally came he met it with sadness. 

He was ready to take on the responsibilities of the company, happy that Jon would be at his side, but he had found more happiness this year than he had felt since before his parents had died. He loved Ellie, and he wasn’t eager to leave her and his sister here to fend for themselves next year. He knew they would be fine, the pair were indestructible, but it needled him anyway. He knew that Jon felt it too as they helped packed the girls up for their three months away.

The girls were babbling excitedly as the last of the luggage was loaded in the car. He and Jon were driving them down, and would meet with different outposts on the way back to Winterfell, where the kids and the wolves would be waiting.

The drive was long and the four of them switched off, taking turns resting in the car. He made sure to stay up when Ellie was driving, as she did with him, and they talked quietly about nothing and everything as Jon and Sansa slept, both eager not to miss a single minute with one another.

He knew she was nervous about him meeting her mother again, and in truth so was he. He remembered a beautiful cold woman who thawed only for her tall brother and eldest son. He knew Ellie wasn’t just nervous about him meeting her, she was genuinely afraid of her mother and that alone was enough to terrify him.

They arrived in the Riverlands on Friday night. They all tumbled into the townhouse exhausted, in search of food and showers and bed. His and Ellie’s lovemaking was slow and sweet, and he kissed every inch of her, irrationally wishing the imprint of his lips would last on her skin during the time they were apart. She came apart in his arms and he surrendered himself to his emotions and when he cried out, it was in her name. 

Ellie was quiet as they got ready the next morning, wordlessly unpacking as he checked emails on his laptop. Her family arrived at midday and he felt her hand shake as her family strode in.

****

Of course she doesn’t even knock, Myrcella thinks as her mother strolls into the home, Joffrey and Tommen at her heels.

She tilts her head in her mother’s direction, and her mother kisses her cheek quickly. 

Joffrey doesn’t even look at her as his eyes roam predatorily over Sansa, but his words are for her, “Hello dear sister, I see you’ve made your home in a wolf den.”

Robb squeezes her hand tightly, and she knows she must be shaking. “Welcome, Joffrey. It has been too long dear brother,” she says and sees his jaw clench at her sickly sweet tone.

She doesn’t need to fake it when it comes to Tommen, and she rushes into his arms, surprised that he is now a head taller than her. 

She makes the introductions, and she could kiss her friends for how polite they are to her family. She and Sansa have made lunch and it passes by slowly, as she tries to lead everyone in conversation. Jon and Robb ingratiate themselves with Tommen, asking him all kinds of questions about his fencing lessons, and Sansa is sweet to her mother, complimenting her clothing and grace. Joffrey is sullen as always, and her heart beats anxiously waiting for the day to be over.

She isn’t sure why she lets him, but Tommen convinces her to start a game in the back garden. Sansa and Jon join in, even Joffrey. As Tommen scores a winning point for their team, she finds herself jumping up and down in spite of herself. It is only later that she realizes that her mother and Robb had been absent.

Finally her mother and brothers leave (Tommen will be back in a month, once his own schooling lets out) and soon it is time for Jon and Robb to leave as well.

Robb has been jumpy ever since he returned to the garden, and she isn’t able to find a moment alone with him before it comes time for him and Jon to pile back in the car. She and Sansa are out on the stoop, watching glumly as the boys through their bags in the car. 

Jon comes to her and kisses her cheek, telling her to keep Sansa safe and she assures him she will. 

Then Robb comes over to her, and she pulls him to her, trying to make him meet her gaze. 

“I’ll see you soon, my love,” she says lightly, trying not to succumb to her emotions. 

He doesn’t respond to her, he only presses his lips to hers, first softly and then fiercely, it is so quick that she can’t put her finger on what makes it different from their other kisses. When he pulls apart from her, his eyes are finally on her, but they are looking at her now as if he would memorize each of her features. 

It is only after the car pulls away that Myrcella realizes it was the first time he kissed her like he might never get to again.


	6. Chapter 6

THREE YEARS LATER

“I dropped off the Westorosi Times with your cover story on your desk. More copies have been delivered to your home, Mr. Stark.”

“Thank you, Roslin,” he says politely as he enters into his office. 

He hadn’t wanted to do the story, he hated doing press, but Jon and the board had insisted. He didn’t always cave to them, but he knew that the Tarly merger needed public support to be a success so he had given in. 

He barely looked at the cover of himself, sitting at his desk in a grey suit, some title citing his family’s sigil in some wholly unoriginal way. He flipped through the pages, looking for the story, wanting to make sure they had highlighted the merger well.

His hands stopped suddenly as his eyes zeroed in on two side-by-side advertisements. The first featured his sister, her red hair wild and a dress with hundreds of blue flowers sewn on swirling around her as fake snow fell. At the bottom, written in the famous scrawl was one line ‘Winter’s Rose, a fragrance by Margery Tyrell’. 

Robb registered this one only momentarily as his gaze fell to the other. While his sister stood out against her backdrop, Myrcella blended into hers. It was gold and yellow and orange, and she wore a yellow chiffon gown, her golden hair tumbling down in waves, her skin shimmery. The only color out of place was the startling green of her eyes, made ferocious by the heavy liner they had put on her. This one had some line too, denoting her own fragrance, but Robb couldn’t even read it. You would think he would have gotten used to seeing her everywhere now, in print anyway, but he hadn’t. 

It was a cruelty of the gods, he thought, that she would follow him everywhere he went, haunting him for the choices he had made.

****

Myrcella was running on her treadmill, a marked up manuscript in front her when Sansa came running in. 

They had just recently graduated from Last Hearth, and had moved into her penthouse in the Riverlands. Sansa could certainly afford her own place, but the two girls preferred being together.

“Ellie! Ellie, stop running!” she said and the excitement on her face was too contagious for Myrcella to deny her. 

She slowed the treadmill and hopped off, grabbing a bottle of water. “What is it, S?”

“Our fragrance ads are out! They look amazing… Loras really is a genius with a camera.”

Myrcella tried to match her friend’s enthusiasm but knows that she couldn’t. She only modeled part time, her real passion was in publishing, and never really took it seriously. 

“Let me see, let me see!” she said, not wanting to dampen her friends mood, and sighed in appreciation when she saw Sansa’s. “Breathtaking! You are totally going to land the Strut cover now.”

“You think?” her friend asked hopefully. 

“Totally!” Myrcella said and smiled when her friend hugged her tightly before running out, probably going to call Jon. 

Alone again she felt the emptiness return, and she hopped on the treadmill again, the steady pace of her feet drowning everything else out.

****

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need?” Roslin asked him, her voice lilting suggestively when she said anything.

“I’m sure, thank you” he said sternly, “Have a good weekend.”

He sees her disappointment as she leaves and he curses himself yet again for giving into his temptation that night months ago. They had been working late, and she had convinced him to pour her a glass of scotch and then insisted he had his own. One thing lead to another and Robb had hardly felt a thing as she moved on top of him. 

She was a competent assistant, and he couldn’t find it in him to fire her just because he had made a mistake, but nevertheless she was a constant reminder of just how alone he was.

He admonished himself whenever he thought like that. In truth the past three years had been by any measure a success. The business had expanded under his and Jon’s reign, branching out into emerging markets that the board never would have dreamed of. His family was doing well too. 

Sansa had graduated with honors in Economics, even though she spent her weekends modeling, sometimes writing papers in between fashion shows. She and Jon were as happy as ever, and he knew a proposal was looming now that Sansa was finished with University. He had a place open for her at the company whenever she wanted it, and she had served on the board for the past two years.

Arya had just finished her second year at Storms End College, captain of the fencing team and was actually dating someone Robb hadn’t met yet named Gendry. She was spending the summer home in Winterfell and he saw her at least twice a week in between her revolving schedule.

Bran was about to start at The Citadel, an immersive, multi-disciplinary University that only took 100 students a year. Bran had been so excited when he had gotten in and Robb knew that his wise younger brother could probably cure rampant diseases and failing economies under the right tutelage. 

Little Rickon was in high school now, and spent all of his days playing football and chasing girls, much to the amusement of his older siblings. 

He should be happy, they were all getting the lives their parents wanted for them. The lives he had secured for them. If his own unhappiness was the price he had to pay then he would willingly go bankrupt.

****

“Sansa, Myrcella, over here!” someone shouted as the cameras flashed.

Even now, Myrcella was nearly blinded by the flashing lights, and was grateful as ever to have Sansa by her side.

Sansa was wearing a strapless, silver gown that swirled around her like a blizzard, her long red hair pulled up into a complicated bun. Myrcella’s gown was light gold with sheer sleeves and seed pearls sewn on, her golden hair in a simple chignon at the base of her neck. 

Sansa, so much more comfortable in front of the cameras, pulled Myrcella to her and winked at her conspiratorially. Myrcella breathed deeply, winking back at her before turning back, her arm wrapping around Sansa’s waist.

There were entire blogs devoted to their friendship, countless pictures of the two girls smiling at one another on red carpets, a rather embarrassing video of them dancing on a bar in the Summer Isles. 

The blogs never talked about how it was Sansa who had pulled her out of a party when she was so drunk she couldn’t see straight, trying to numb the pain of losing Robb. It was Sansa who had told her of Joffrey’s fatal overdose, she didn’t even judge her when Myrcella found that she couldn’t shed a tear for her elder brother. 

Tommen had been different, that was what had almost broken her. It had been late into their junior year. Tommen, only sixteen, had been home with their grieving mother. Cersei had been so overcome by the death of her eldest that she watched Tommen like a hawk, never letting him out of her sight. Myrcella had tried, she had visited once a month, invited Tommen to stay with her and Sansa but her mother wouldn’t allow it. Her Uncle Jaime had assured her that Tommen wouldn’t have felt a moment’s pain when he hit the water, so high were the cliffs of Casterly Rock. 

Jon had come with Sansa to the funeral, and it was in his arms that she had finally crumbled. He had held her for hours and let her mourn the loss she could name and the one she couldn’t.

She took care to never mention his name to them, never name her sadness, though they knew it all the same. She couldn’t bear to lose them too, so she hid it away, throwing herself into school and modeling and her job with Varys. At 22 she was one of the faces of a clothing line, had graduated with honors, and had a job at the preeminent publishing house in the Seven Kingdoms, but she knew that her greatest accomplishment had been holding onto Jon and Sansa, her twin pillars.

Myrcella smiled now in earnest at the cameras, as she nudged her hips against her friend’s. Sansa had gotten her through every one of the Seven Hells of the last three years, the least she could do was be a good date.

****

“No Tarly – that isn’t what we’ve discussed and that isn’t what’s in the contract,” he said into the speakerphone, shaking his head in exasperation at Robb.

“Jon, you’re new at this, negotiations take time, they evolve, just think about it, you’re still getting the better end of this deal by a league.”  
“Randyll, this is Robb speaking now,” and the cousins smirked at one another at the silence on the other end, “You couldn’t get this past our lawyers during the months of negotiations and you certainly aren’t going to get this by Jon. You have signed an agreement, you’ve initialed 200 separate pages of it. It’s done.”

“You boys are green –“

“Perhaps,” Jon cut in, a full smile on his face matching Robb’s, “But we just took the controlling shares in your company, so it may not suit your reputation to say so.”

When there was only silence on the other end, Robb said, “Good day to you Randyll, enjoy retirement,” before clicking off. 

The cousins had gained a reputation for ruthlessness, but they conducted their business with honor. This was a rare case where they had enjoyed the kill, months of negotiations had proven Randyll Tarly to be a small, spiteful man, who had circumvented his company’s policy of passing down power to the eldest son out of sheer pettiness. The son he had overlooked, Samwell, had an agile mind and a nearly encyclopedic knowledge base. Like Bran, he had studied at the Citadel and it was clear that he was the secret power behind the Tarly Corporation. Jon and Robb had grown fond of him, and in turn he seemed to almost worship them. They had made his position at the head of the company an ironclad component of the deal.

When the other end went silent, they both stretched. Tarly had the ability to make a 15 minute call seem like an hour and it was the end of another long week. 

Jon looked over at his cousin, nervous now and said, “Hey man, can I buy you a drink? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

He saw a glimmer of understanding in Robb’s eyes, but his cousin only said lightly, “For the love of the gods, yes, we’ve earned it now.”

They head to their local pub, and find a seat in the back, the bartender Ros bringing over two neat scotches. She was a clever girl, and could always tell what they needed to drink the moment she spotted them. 

“So…” Robb said expectantly after they had sat sipping in silence for a few minutes.

“Robb, I have been thinking about this for a while…” he said and cleared his throat, hating how nervous he was, “I’m sure you’ve been expecting this but…with Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat gone, I couldn’t feel right about it without asking your permission first…”

“So ask,” Robb said gently.

“May I have your blessing to ask Sansa to marry me?” he asked, blowing out a gust of air as if it had been burrowed inside of him.

Robb’s smile is wide and true, “I eagerly give you my blessing.”

Jon smiles in relief and says, “I’ll take care of her, always, I promise.”

Robb rolls his eyes as the painfully obvious statement, but says, a glint of humor in his voice, “I know you will man, and I love you for it. But in all honesty, I would give my permission regardless because can you imagine what Sansa would do to me if I refused?” 

Jon let out a loud laugh, imagining Sansa’s withering stare, and cheers’d his soon to be brother in law. He was flying out later that night, knowing that once he’d had permission he wouldn’t be able to wait a minute longer to ask her to be his.

****

“He sounded so weird on the phone, El, do you think he’s breaking up with me?”

“Of course not, his world rises and sets on your smile,” Myrcella says gently then fights back the sudden threat of tears, remembering a similar confession Robb had made to her as they lied tangled in one another’s arms.

She rarely allowed herself to think about him, and whenever she did, it was like a hazy curtain was over her memories, as though they had happened to someone else.

“He’s coming in tonight…” Sansa says as she bites her bottom lip nervously. She’s standing in a robe in front of her closet, while Myrcella sits on her bed, Lady’s head in her lap. 

“Then you will know soon enough, babe,” Myrcella says reassuringly. 

She gently extricates herself as Lady whimpers and goes over to Sansa’s closet, pulling out a grey dress that she knows Jon loves to see Sansa in. She knew what was coming, Jon had practically told her the last time he saw her, and while she was determined to not give anything away she couldn’t stand to see her friend so heartsick.

“Wear this,” she says, brushing the hair away from her friend’s eyes, “He can’t think straight when you wear it. You’ll dazzle him like you always do.”

Sansa sighs and presses her forehead against Myrcella’s, “I can’t lose him, El. I won’t survive it,” she says and Myrcella knows that Sansa is remembering Ellie’s own pain, in the months following Robb’s disappearance. 

“You can survive anything,” she says, “But you won’t have to. Jon loves you, he’d never leave you,” she finishes, cutting herself off before she can say like Robb doesn’t love me, like Robb left me. She doesn’t need to, she knows that Sansa’s thinking the same thing and she won’t put a damper on her friend’s evening. 

“I’ll give you guys some space to talk things through, I’ll be working at The Towers,” Myrcella said, referencing their favorite coffee shop, “I won’t be home until late. Call me if you need me.” She says and kisses her friends cheek as she goes to gather the three manuscripts she was working on.

****

Robb was on his third scotch of the evening. Jon had left after the first but he had stayed, sipping quietly.

He was happy for Jon and Sansa. He knew how much they loved each other and like all the Starks, he had overcome the weirdness once he saw how very real their love was. He knew that Sansa would always be safe and happy with Jon, and he couldn’t have chosen two people more perfect for one another, except maybe…

He downed the remaining contents of his glass, edging off that thought, that dangerous thought that entered his mind all too frequently.

He wondered if Ellie ever thought about him. Her picture was everywhere, though the modeling ones told him nothing, after all those fools covered her perfect face in make-up until it was nothing more than a mask, albeit a beautiful one. 

Instead he found himself looking at the ones of her taken in every day life. Many of them were taken with Sansa, the two girls at some event or just walking down the street. He saw that she spent a lot of time with Lady, she was often seen running or walking with the wolf, there seemed to be a shady tree she liked to read under, Lady pressed against her side. There were whole theories that her and Jon were in a secret relationship, countless pictures of Myrcella’s arm threaded through his, her head on his shoulder, Jon, his nose bloody after getting in a fight defending Myrcella from some unknown foe, his arm around her bare shoulders at some music festival, their faces turned into one another, smiling at some hidden joke. 

The hardest ones to see were the ones when she was alone, in the months after Tommen passed. The damned paparazzi hadn’t even left her alone then, the tragedy of a mourning beauty being utterly irresistible. She looked so young in these, so small. They never caught her crying, she was too poised for that, but when he looked at them it was like all the lightness he had loved in her had been stolen away.

“I’ll have another…” Robb said. It was rare for him to overindulge. For the most part he had bore his unhappiness nobly, throwing himself into work and his family, sculpting his body in a futile attempt to get out his aggression. 

Ros plopped down at a glass of water, “Go home, Robb Stark,” she said gently.

“Is denying alcohol really wise business practice for a bartender?” he asks her petulantly.

“Usually no, but I’m doing it all the same,” she says as she comes around the bar, “Let me get you a cab.”

He is surprised when he gets up that his legs feel wobbly, but he lets her lead him out of the pub, eager to lie down in his own bed.

As they wait for one to arrive, he finds himself mumbling, “I let her go, Ros, I just let her go and her world fell apart and I didn’t help put it back together.”

She looks at him and sighs, “I should have known, you’re far too much of a catch to be single by accident.”

She doesn’t ask him who she is, if he loved her, what had happened, and Robb knows it is written all over his face. She was his reason for breathing, he had loved her deeply, and he had ruined it.


	7. Chapter 7

She didn’t remember him coming in, she didn’t remember the nervous kiss he had given her, didn’t remember the lamp Ghost and Lady had knocked over in their exuberant greeting. 

She knew that all she would remember from this was night was Jon falling down to one knee and asking her to be his forever. 

If she could remember anything else, it would be falling to her own knees with him, saying yes over and over again as they kissed every inch of each other’s faces.

She might even remember the passion of their love making, every thrust accented by another promise of devotion, every kiss a pledge of happiness. 

And she knew she’d always remember waking up in his arms, and looking down at her ring, feeling the overwhelming sense of calm it brought her. She had woken him then, desperate to feel him inside her again, and he obliged as he always did, and they chased one another’s pleasure for the better part of the morning. 

When they finally emerged, freshly showered, they knocked on Ellie’s door. Sansa smiled when she saw her friend, Lady and Ghost piled on either side of her, her face pouring over some undiscovered novel. 

When she looks up, she raises her brow and hops up excitedly, gathering Sansa and Jon in her embrace. When they pull apart, there a tears of happiness in Ellie’s eyes, and she is murmuring congratulations and celebrations, that are all drowned out by her sudden giggle when Jon spins her around. The wolves bark at him angrily, but Sansa and Ellie only smile.

“Please say you’ll come out tonight to celebrate, there’s an event for the perfume campaigns anyway.”

“Of course, I will,” Ellie says happily and for a moment, Sansa can see the glimmer of the old Ellie, freshfaced and exuberant, shining light on all those around her.

This should have been her and Robb, Sansa thinks before her friend embraces her again, drowning out the anger she still feels for her favorite brother.

****

Myrcella eased into the so-light-it’s-almost-white coral dress, delighting in the way the chiffon felt against her body. It fit her perfectly, it was handmade for her after all, and after years of her turning down the more revealing clothing in the line, Margery had finally started making her clothes she would actually wear. 

Practically all of her clothes were from Margery’s many labels. She only used full-time models for the catwalk, her and Sansa had been the faces of the fashion house for the past few years. Margery, as beautiful as any model in the Seven Kingdoms, sometimes joined them in photoshoots and had become a close friend to both girls over the years.

Myrcella had been asked to model for other houses, but she had never had the desire to. This had started as a fluke, she had been picking up Sansa to grab coffee when Loras Tyrell, Margery’s brother and creative director, had stopped the pair begging them to take test shots. 

Giving herself a last look in the mirror, knowing what a stickler Margery could be with her creations, she went to find Jon and Sansa. She found them in the library, locked in a passionate embrace. 

She cleared her throat and they broke apart looking happy and not at all chagrined, “The car is here, lovebirds.”

“Well I am a lucky man indeed, two international sensations on my arm,” Jon said sweetly as he crooked his elbow so she could ease her arm through it, and she let him lead her and Sansa downstairs to the sleek black SUV that was waiting for them.

The party was an elegant affair, like everything Margery did. Myrcella had split off from Sansa and Jon who had been making the rounds and sharing the news. Myrcella had immediately been intercepted by Loras, and she was happy to stay by his side. 

He was utterly fascinating, he had been everywhere and seen everything but he was also a genuinely good person and a true friend. He was as close with Margery as Tommen had been with Myrcella, and the siblings looked so similar that it was almost eerie. He shared her attention to detail and Myrcella knew that it was to his credit that the party was as beautiful as it was.

“I’m serious, El… you would be perfect for the new sports line…with that bottom of yours you would have girls running to the store. Pun intended.”

Myrcella giggled lightly, “I don’t know…I had kind of thought I might take a break after the perfume campaign…”

“Nonsense, you’re too perfect for it to pass it up. Hey, man! Can you please tell her that her ass is too divine to hide in layers of chiffon? We need to get some spandex on this girl!” Loras says to some poor stranger who had just been approaching them.

“Loras! You can’t just say things like that to strangers,” she says, feeling her cheeks color. 

“Oh please, this is no stranger. Myrcella, may I present the man, the myth, the legend, Mr. Willas Tyrell. Willas, allow me to introduce you to the indecently divine Myrcella Baratheon.”

As soon as Loras says it, she sees the familial resemblance. Willas had the same brown curls and light blue eyes as his younger siblings, but where he differed was the way he carried himself. Margery and Loras were practically peacocks, relishing in their status and beauty, while Willas carried himself as if he simply had somewhere to go, not wanting to bother anyone on the way. She meets his eyes and bites her lip to keep from smiling when she sees him blush. 

“Myrcella, your reputation certainly precedes you…” he says, and she finds that she likes the gravity in his voice.

“All lies, to be sure” she returns and is surprised by the flirtatious lilt in her own.

“Somehow I doubt that. Perhaps you’d let me see for myself, may I escort you to the bar?”

She nearly let’s out a hysterical giggle when she sees Loras’ surprised grin, but instead she turns to the eldest Tyrell and says simply, “I’d be delighted.”

****

Sansa Stark was having a marvellous time. The dress Margery made her for the party was brilliant and she moved through the party gracefully on the arm of her newly minted fiancé. 

For his part, Jon was devastating in his all black suit, his beard trimmed just so and a stubborn black curl hanging over his eye. Everywhere she moved she felt the reassuring pressure of his hand on the small of her back (even better when it had slid down to her rump when their backs were to the wall).

Though Jon would never attend a party like this on his own, he was undeniably charming, and in all corners of the room people were chattering about the beautiful Stark heiress and her gorgeous brooding fiancé. Jon had been her constant companion on the red carpet, and his business ventures with Robb had gained him his own reputation. 

Sansa found some of these parties odious, but Margery had insisted on only inviting people they liked, for the most part. They had been able to flit between happy groups for most of the evening, until a smug looking man approached the pair. Petyr Baelish, a rather seedy talent agent. The man had been a friend of her mother’s growing up and he used that at every opportunity to corner Sansa.

Sansa is talking to him, with Jon mercifully at her side when she sees Myrcella being escorted through the party by someone who could only be a Tyrell.

It is like watching two does in a meadow, the dance Myrcella and her companion are doing. She sees him go to put his hand on the small of her friend’s back, before clearly thinking better of it. She watches Myrcella’s hand shake when she raises her gin martini to her lips. She can tell that the laughter between them is nervous, but their eyes don’t leave one another. She watches surprised as Myrcella’s hand touches his forearm lightly as she is driving home a point, watches him lean towards her as if telling her something in confidence. 

If it were a thousand other girls with a thousand other boys, Sansa might think that this could be the start of everything. But this was Ellie, and Sansa knew that for all her grace and dignity, for all her kindness and strength, she had given her everything a long time ago, and she had nothing left to give. 

Jon extricates them from the conversation with Baelish and follows her gaze to the handsome pair at the bar. Jon grimaces and Sansa knows that it would have been easier for him if it looked like Myrcella needed their help extricating herself from the conversation, as she had so many times before. But looking at Myrcella, her face flushed, her eyes bright, mesmerising the boy in front of her, it occurred to them both that she didn’t look like a girl who needed to be saved from anything. Jon, like Sansa, was unswervingly loyal to Robb and Myrcella both. Robb had tested that loyalty over the years, never explaining his sudden change of heart, but Myrcella never had. 

The lights in the room filled the Tyrell’s curls with a reddish glow, and when Myrcella’s wind chime laugh carried through the room, Jon and Sansa both stood staring wordlessly, and if you have had asked them both they would have told you that it was almost like seeing a ghost.

****  
“So uh, we want to get married quickly. We are thinking in a month, at home, in the godswood…” Jon tells him after their morning meeting.

“That’s great man, let me know what I can do to help arrange. We’ll be able to house a bunch of guests, and we can book a couple floors at the hotel,” Robb says and is already making a mental list, “Roslin can give you the list of suppliers we used for that Frey event…they were good right?”

“Yeah, Sansa loved that caterer…good call on ensuring there would be lemon cakes. Thanks Robb, I’ll definitely take you up on that, but there was actually something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Anything, what’s up?”

“Will you be my best man? I mean…I know that Sansa asked you to give her away, but I thought after that you could stand by me… you know?”

“That means a lot Jon…I’d be honored to stand by you.”

“You should know something though… Myrcella is going to be in the wedding.”

Robb feels his jaw clench. As a rule they didn’t ever talk about her. Jon would disappear for weekends, for which he would offer no explaination, and even though Robb always knew he had seen her, it helped not to have to hear about it. But now, at the first mention of her name in two years, he just nods, “Of course she is. You and Sansa need to have everyone you love there. It won’t be a problem.”

****

“So uh, we want to get married quickly. We are thinking in a month, at home, in the godswood…” Sansa tells her as they are sipping coffee after their morning run. 

“That’s great, babe! Let me know what I can help arrange. We’ll need a string of suites at that hotel, I can look into it for you,” Myrcella says, already making a to do list in her head, “You should see if you can get that caterer that you loved so much from that Frey event…you send me their info right?”

“Yes, oh those lemon cakes! Be still my beating heart. Thanks, I’m definitely going to want your help…but there is actually something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Anything, what’s up?”

“Will you be a bridesmaid? I mean… I know that Arya would kill me if I didn’t ask her to be my maid of honor, but I want you up there with me as well.”

“That means a lot Sansa…I can’t wait to stand by you.”

“You should know something though… Robb is going to be in the wedding.”

Myrcella feels a pain in her stomach. As a rule they never talked about him. Sansa would go up North to visit her family and would tell stories of every other Stark besides him. It helped not having to hear about him. But now, at the first mention of his name in nearly three years, she merely smiled, “Of course he is. You and Jon mean the world to him. It won’t be a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something tells me it may be a problem...


	8. Chapter 8

The month had passed quickly. The Starks had all come home two weeks before, all pitching in to plan the wedding. 

Robb still worked every day, there was no avoiding it, but the rest of his time was spent speaking with caterers, bands, and djs. He had even spent three endless hours helping Sansa choose table linens. 

It was going to be a beautiful wedding, comparatively small at 200 guests, and all of Winterfell had been taken over in preparations. 

The guests were starting to arrive today, the rehearsal dinner would be tonight, the wedding tomorrow. Afterwards, Jon and Sansa were going to the Summer Isles for a few weeks.

Robb kept himself busy on purpose, trying to avoid the fact that in a couple short hours he would be in the same room as Myrcella again. 

She would be staying at the hotel, she had apparently declined the invitation to stay at the family home. He couldn’t blame her really, and knowing Ellie it would be because she was trying to make it easier on everyone else, probable even including him.

Robb had purposely not looked to see if she was bringing a date, he didn’t want to know. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle weeks of wondering what the guy would be like.

He was in his old room finishing getting dressed when he heard a light knock on the door. When the door opened, it was Sansa in an oyster silk cocktail dress, her hair curled lightly. She looked so beautiful, so much like their mother that he couldn’t stop the tears that filled his eyes.

“Sansa…you are going to be the most beautiful bride the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen.” 

She looks down at her dress before smirking, “Oh this is nothing compared to what Marg made me for tomorrow… “

He didn’t doubt it, the Tyrell girl certainly had a flair for beautiful things. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a bride on the eve of her wedding?” he asks formally, like he had when they used to play Knights as children.

“I just wanted to come and thank you.”

“Thank me? Everyone pitched in for the wedding, we’re happy to do it.”

“No, not for that, I mean you all have been incredible but… I just wanted to thank you for everything. The way you take care of me and the kids, the way you let me love Jon all those years ago. You’ve become the man Mom and Dad always wanted you to be, you carry people, you carry me. I don’t always thank you when I should, but, this being the eve of my wedding, my heart is so incredibly full… and I couldn’t go another minute without telling you how much you mean to me, to us.”

One of the tears that had filled his eyes at the sight of her, fought free now and ran down his cheek as he pulled his favorite sister into his arms. He doesn’t say anything, he just hugs her tightly for a long time. 

When they pull apart, Sansa looks nervous but says, “Robb, we’ve never talked about what happened…I mean we had a few rather…undignified conversations right afterward…” and she blushes, probably remembering the time she had slapped him clean across the face, “but ever since then…I never mentioned her. I don’t know what happened, and I guess that’s okay, but don’t use me and Jon and the kids as something to hide behind. None of us could live with ourselves if we thought we were the reason for your unhappiness.”

The way she said it made Robb nervous, like she almost did know what happened, though he knew there was no way that she could. He looked down at his beautiful, kind sister and knew that her heart had broken as well, maybe not as definitively as Robb and Myrcella’s had, but it had broken all the same. She had looked forward to a lifetime of double dates and family vacations. More than that she loved him and Myrcella fiercely, and he knew that Sansa felt their pain as if it had been marked on her skin. 

“You all are my only happiness, Sansa. You’re my family, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,” he says, and he knows she wants to protest, “But this weekend is not about me. It is about you and Jon, and I won’t hold up the celebrations a moment longer. Now, will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the feast?” he asks her as he crooks his arm in invitation.

She slips her hand through it and gives him a dazzling smile, “I thought you’d never ask, big brother.” 

****

Myrcella was fidgeting nervously near the wedding party table when Bran came up and enveloped her in a hug. She was surprised that she had to stand on her tiptoes to hug him now, he was even taller than he had been during his last visit to the Riverlands the year before. 

He is followed quickly by Rickon who picks her up and swings her around, his time on the football field making him even more muscular than Jon. 

“Who are these handsome man? Certainly not the Stark boys I remember!” she says and can’t keep the happiness from her voice.

“It’s us Ellie, but it has been way too long – you look beautiful,” Bran says kindly.

“Smokin’” Rickon says eagerly, making her and Bran laugh. 

She flips her hair jokingly and says, “It’s kind of you to notice.” 

“We asked Sansa to sit you in between us… I hope you don’t mind?” Bran asks her, and she knows that this wise boy had done it as much for her benefit as theirs.

“I will be the envy of every girl here. Now, sit sit sit, tell me everything you’ve been doing!” she says.

Most of the wedding party had assembled, Jon was sitting in animated conversation with Arya while, Margery, the other bridesmaid, hovered near her seat speaking with the Stark’s Uncle Edmure. Myrcella almost feels like her old self for a minute as she listens to them patiently as they talk over one another like they always had, Rickon making her laugh with his boyish charm while Bran made her heart soar with pride as he humbly told her of his accomplishments. Rickon is in the middle of telling them why he had broken up with his last girlfriend (she had lasted three weeks, which was two weeks longer than the one before) when the room goes silent. 

The two eldest Stark siblings enter the great hall, Sansa’s arm slinked through her brother’s and they look like twin deities. Sansa is in a one of a kind oyster cocktail dress and Robb looks distractingly good in his suit. The ease they have one another is palpable as they glide through the room, nodding every so often to one guest or another. Robb whispers something in Sansa’s ear and her girlish giggle echoes through the hall. 

Myrcella finds that her hands are shaking in her lap. She hadn’t seen him three years, not since that day in her Uncle Renly’s townhouse, that auspicious lunch. She straightens her back in her seat, forcing a light smile onto her face, as she looks unseeing straight ahead. 

They finally make their way to the table and Robb slides in next to Sansa on Bran’s other side. As Jon takes his fiance’s face in his hands and kisses her lips lightly, but reverently, Myrcella can feel the sigh that the whole room seems to let out. As the bride and groom to be take their seats, the room snaps back to life as they all settle into the very serious business of celebration.

****

The rehearsal dinner had been, for all intents and purposes, uneventful and lovely. Jon and Sansa had been radiant, and he was sure that the entire room could feel the love they bore one another. 

The toasts had been light and sweet, random guests popping up to tell a story of the bride or groom or both. Arya spoke as well, though she was the maid of honor, she had insisted on giving her speech that night.

She had done well, and there were tears in Jon and Sansa’s eyes as they rose to hug her. He would speak tonight at the reception and had been writing and rewriting his speech for the past month. 

He had hardly gotten to see Myrcella. He had purposely not looked at her as he entered with Sansa, sure that if he had he would do something stupid. Bran had blocked his view of her through the feast, and knowing him it had been intentional. He had heard her though, and her voice cut through him like a dagger as she prodded Bran and Rickon with questions, much to their obvious delight. Her wind chimes of laughter had reverberated in his ears threatening to send him into madness. But he had stuck true to his word and hadn’t made it a thing. They hadn’t spoken at all.

He wouldn’t be able to avoid her tonight though he thought miserable as he got dressed in his tuxedo with Jon and his brothers. Being the one who would give Sansa away, he would be forced into her vicinity shortly, he’d even have to watch her perfect form walk down the aisle in front of him. 

Something Rickon said cut into his self-loathing and he reached out with his glass of scotch to clink it against Jon’s, determined that this day would be full of joy. Even if it killed him.

****

“By the gods, Margery, you are a genius,” Arya said as she looked at Sansa’s reflection in the mirror. 

Myrcella couldn’t help but agree, Sansa was the epitome of what a bride was supposed to look like on her wedding day. The dress form fitting down her body, flaring gently starting at the thighs and it pooled out around her. It had long lace sleeves and a high neck, and with Sansa’s elaborate updo she looked like Myrcella had imagined the Queen of Love and Beauty in all those stories her Uncle Jaime used to read to her. 

“Sansa makes my job easy,” Margery said graciously as she straightened the hem, always a perfectionist.

“I am marrying Jon today,” Sansa says breathlessly, as if she almost just thought of it, “I get to be his forever…” 

It is Myrcella she looks at when she says it, and Myrcella can only squeeze her friend’s hand, a broad smile on her face. 

“El-“ Sansa starts but is cut off by Robb standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging open as he stares at his sister.

Myrcella hates him for that. It was exactly what he was supposed to do, exactly what she would expect him to do, and it infuriates her that he is just like she remembered. 

“Will I do, Robb?” Sansa asks sweetly, and Myrcella knows it must be how she used to sound when she would ask her big brother to kill a spider as a little girl. 

“You look beautiful, Sansa…you look like mom.”

It’s the exact right tone to hit, and all of Sansa’s nerves fall away as she takes her brothers open hand. 

Arya and Margery fall into line, waiting for Myrcella to take her place beside Margery in front of Robb and Sansa. Averting his gaze, she squeezes Sansa’s elbow reassuringly as she finds her place, directly in front of her. She can feel his gaze on her, and she hates the way her stomach tightens and her breath hitches at his proximity. 

Wordlessly she follows Arya, in perfect time with Margery as they exit the house and make for the godswood. 

****

He can’t think straight as Myrcella crosses in front of him. She doesn’t meet his gaze, but her familiar scent washes over him, and suddenly it feels as though Sansa is holding him steady rather than the other way around.

As they walk to the godswood, he looks to his sister and from the look she is giving him, he knows it is true. He finds it in him to smile at her reassuringly before the both look ahead once more. 

He wasn’t prepared for what it would be like to be so near her. He had almost tricked himself into forgetting the power she held over him, but one innocuous moment together and it all came rushing back.

She was wearing a silver gown, her creamy shoulders bare down to her shoulder blades, and as the wind tickled her curls he could almost see the birthmarks that rested on her spine. 

They entered the godswood and he saw Jon smiling eagerly at Arya, and then Myrcella before his gaze fell on Sansa. 

Robb wished he could get a picture of his reaction to his bride, it was like a man dying of thirst being offered a glass of water. It was full of shock and wonder and yearning. 

Up ahead Arya, Myrcella and Margery had settled in a line, waiting for Robb and Sansa.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” Bran asks the traditional words.

“Sansa, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble, she comes to ask the blessing of the gods. Who comes to claim her?” Robb answers and finds his voice thick.

“Jon Snow, of the North. Who gives her?” Jon answers and Robb can hear the same emotion in his. 

“Robb, of House Stark, eldest son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark.”

“Sansa, do you take this man?” Bran asks.

Sansa’s smile is wide and her voice is true and clear when she says, “I take this man.”

As promised, Robb moves to Jon’s side, symbolically becoming his best man. Then, in the old way, Jon takes a cloak of his mother’s and wraps it around Sansa, bringing her under his protection. 

As Sansa tilts her head to meet Jon’s lips, Robb allows himself to look at Myrcella. There are tears in her eyes but her smile is bright, and it does not falter as it travels from the happy couple to Bran. Though her gaze had trailed across him, he knew that she hadn’t really seen him. It was like he wasn’t even there. After all these years, he wouldn’t be surprised that if to her, he wasn’t.

****

The wedding had been so beautiful. It was the first Northern one she had attended, and Myrcella had instantly favored it to the long, odious Southern ones. The happiness that radiated off of Jon and Sansa was like this living thing, and she was eager to be swept up in it.

She had felt Robb’s gaze on her again, as Jon kissed his new bride, and she wondered if he had been thinking, like she had, that at one point, this future had been theirs. Most likely not, he had probably not been thinking of her at all.

As the guests settled in, and courses served, it came time for her speech. Arya had insisted that she be the one to speak at the wedding and though she had accepted readily, happy to speak about her dear friends, she now found herself a pile of nerves. She was speaking first, Robb would follow behind and she thanked the gods that she didn’t have to go after him.

Champagne glass in hand, Myrcella makes her way to the microphone in the center of the clearing (the wedding was outdoors on the family’s land). She didn’t bother introducing herself, there weren’t many in attendance that she didn’t know personally.

“If we’re lucky, we will experience a great many kinds of loves in our life. Some loves, will be love at first sight, like Sansa and me,” she says and pauses as the crowd chuckles, “Other loves evolve slowly, like Sansa and Jon’s did, and can be all the more sweet for the waiting. They’re love is real, it is visceral, I am sure you can all feel it as I do,” she says and hears the crowd murmuring in agreement, “Now, I stand before you as Sansa’s bridesmaid, and it is an unmatched honor to stand by and support my dear friend who gives herself so freely to those she loves, asking only for their happiness in return, but I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention my unwavering devotion to her darling husband. So, to the bride and groom, may your lives be blessed by each and every kind of love, congratulations, I love you both,” she finishes as she raises her glass to Jon and Sansa. 

They raise theirs in return, Sansa blowing her a kiss as Jon mouths thank you. She steps away from the microphone and walks back to her table as Robb begins his speech.

“It is hard to think of what could be said more than that,” Robb starts, and Myrcella can hear a small shake in his voice, “so I will just tell you a story. When I was fourteen and Jon fifteen, we watched a horror movie that we weren’t supposed to. Even worse, we allowed my sweet, little, eleven year old sister Sansa to watch with us. I was surprised when she didn’t turn away during the whole film, she hardly even gasped. Later that night though, she came running into my room and climbed into my bed. I groggily, and somewhat grumpily, asked her what was wrong and she told me that she was afraid. When I asked her why she hadn’t been afraid during the movie, she had said simply, as though it were obvious, that she hadn’t been afraid because Jon and I were with her, and there was nothing that could truly hurt her when we were near. I told Jon of our conversation the next day and I saw as his heart swell with pride, honored by Sansa’s trust. Since that day, her proclamation has been proven true, time and time again. So, to my darling sister Sansa, please know that I will always do everything in my power to ensure nothing harms you, and to Jon, thank you for always being someone worthy of her trust. To the happy couple!”

Myrcella hadn’t realized she was crying until Robb’s eyes met hers. Sansa had told her that story years before, and it had been one of the things that had made her love him, even before she really knew him. It would be so much easier if he had just turned bad, if he had been like Joffrey, sick and twisted. In her lowest moments she had tried to convince herself that it was so, but now, standing before him at the wedding of the two people they both loved most dearly, she knew that he hadn’t changed. He had simply stopped loving her.

****

He felt hollow. As his speech ended, Myrcella’s gaze met his for the first time in three years. Tears ran down her beautiful face and he had to fight the urge to run to her and kiss them away. It would have been so much easier if he really had ceased to exist to her. He had prepared himself for her anger, or worse her indifference, but he hadn’t prepared for her sadness. 

She had recovered quickly, being led out in the first dance by Rickon, who looked at her like an eager puppy. He saw his younger brother’s elation every time he made her laugh, and his heart broke all over again knowing that they had been so long apart because of him. 

He stifled a laugh as Myrcella audaciously beckoned Margery forward, encouraging her to dance with the youngest Stark. Rickon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he lead the legendary beauty across the dance floor.

He watched as Myrcella joined Margery’s brothers at the bar, along with her Uncle Renly who was reportedly dating Loras. She whispered something in Renly’s ear that made him cackle, but Robb was focused on Willas, the older one, who was watching the way a lock of Myrcella’s hair danced against her neck in the breeze. 

Robb was interrupted from his spying when Sansa came over to him, asking him to dance. He agreed readily, and his sister and he made a graceful pair as he spun her around. 

He saw that Jon had partnered Myrcella, pulling her away from her admirers as they too began to move in sync. He looked down at Sansa and she gave him a knowing look, which told him wordlessly, that yes they had planned this, and that no, he would not be able to get out of it. 

As the song switched, Jon moved towards them, Myrcella’s hand still in his as he said to Robb, “Now, I fear I must steal my bride back.”

Myrcella stopped short, averting his gaze, and he couldn’t believe himself when he asked her to dance. She looked at him, surprised as though she hadn’t expected him to speak, and her gaze drifts to Sansa and Jon, who are smiling at them like fools, before she nods her head.

Myrcella’s hands are light on his shoulder and in his hand as he draws her to him. The song is mournful but with an elegant melody and he leads her in familiar steps. If he couldn’t smell her perfume, he might be able to believe she wasn’t there. She had always been graceful, light on her feet, but now it was different, she was like silk, threatening to slip through his fingers at any moment. 

He spun her, and as he drew her back to him his hand rested more firmly against her back and he nearly hissed when he felt her ribs against his fingers. She had always been slender, but there was a thinness to her now that hadn’t been there before. 

He finds himself growing angry as they dance, irrational as it may be, and he decides that if this really was the last time she was in his arms, he was going to make it count. 

Her breath hitches as he moves her more slowly, his chin resting against her temple like it had so many years ago, and he feels dizzy as her hand shakes lightly in his. 

Every time he spins her draws her closer and as they dance, graceful and violent, he feels her coming back to him, alive once again in his arms. He spins her forcefully, sending her further away from him, but when he catches her hand in his and pulls her to him, her gaze finally meets his. 

This time when her hand touches his shoulder, it nearly burns a hole in it. Her gaze doesn’t leave his now that they’ve met, and he revels in how effortlessly their bodies work together. As the song ends, he backs her into a dip, and his lips ache to press against her neck. Reason prevails though and he pulls her back up gently. 

She is out of his arms in a moment, turning quickly on her heel and rushing back to the house.

****

She is shaking as she hurries back to the house and she knows that it isn’t from the chill in the air. She can sense him following her as she exits the clearing, which only makes her quicken her pace. 

As she nears the driveway, she curses her heels as he finally catches up with her, and reaches out to grab her saying, “El-“

She jumps back as though she’s been scalded, and hates the hysteria in her voice when she says, “Don’t you dare touch me!” whipping around to meet his gaze. 

He backs away immediately, and Myrcella tries not to feel guilt at the pain in his eyes.

“Ellie I only wanted to…” he says but trails off.

“You only wanted to what? What was the point of that?” she doesn’t give him time to answer when she says, “I fought for us. I cried and I begged and I flew to Winterfell and you wouldn’t even see me. I cried for you every day for a year and now what? You see me and you bring it all back. What is the point of that? Have you not broken my heart in enough ways, Robb, do you need to rip it from my very chest before you can be satisfied?”

“Ellie I – I’m, fuck I am so sorry. I know that there is nothing I can say, I wasn’t there for you when you needed me… I…”

“When I needed you?” she asks incredulously, “I didn’t fail a test Robb, I didn’t lose an argument. My brother died. He was 17 and he flung himself from a cliff and you didn’t even call. You stopped loving me and I get that, but had I really not earned even a sliver of your respect?” 

She isn’t sure who is crying, but either way her cheeks are wet when he pulls her to him and kisses her, deep and slow and desperate. She latches onto him like he is her source of oxygen as she lets herself be kissed. 

She feels his absence when he pulls away and he says, his voice breaking, “I have never, I could never stop loving you,” before he turns and walks away towards the reception, leaving her alone in the driveway to wonder if he was ever really there at all.


	9. Chapter 9

He is cursing himself as he walks back to the reception. Why had he danced with her? Why had he kissed her? All thoughts kept coming back to the same main question: How had he ever left her?

He hadn’t consciously decided to follow her as she fled, but nevertheless his legs carried him to her. He saw her speed up as she felt him behind her and that only spurred him on, releasing the caged predator in him. 

‘He was 17 and he flung himself from a cliff and you didn’t even call’ her words echo in his head and he doubles over as if he has been punched in his gut. 

“Robb, Robb! What in Seven Hells?” Jon asks, concern in his voice.

“Where is Ellie?” Sansa demands, no concern, for him anyway, in hers. 

“She’s –” and he points weakly to the driveway where he had left her. 

“You have to tell us. You HAVE to tell us now. If you had seen her and there had been nothing there we would have dropped it forever. We would stop having hope. We would encourage you both to date more. We would make peace that our lives would forever be divided. But I saw you, by the gods, the whole wedding saw you two. You love her, you have always loved her, and that kind of love never dies. You have to tells us what happened.” Jon says passionately and Robb can hear the anger in his voice. 

They both look at him expectantly but his face is like stone. Finally Sansa sighs and starts towards the driveway, in search of Ellie.  
He can’t help himself when he says weakly, “Just make sure she eats something every once in a while.”

When Sansa turns to him, it is with anger, and pity, and sadness, and she says, hollowly, “What’s the point, Robb? She’s a corpse. She’s lost too many of the things that made her her. Anything you see now is just a trick of light.” 

And she leaves him and Jon to find the girl they all love. 

“You can tell me, Robb. Whatever it is – I just, I need to know.” 

He looks at his cousin and knows that if there is anyone he can trust with this it is him. He sighs as he thinks about that godforsaken day in the Riverlands.

FLASHBACK

‘You don’t want to join their game, little wolf?’ Myrcella’s mother asks him as he puts the last dish on the drying rack. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up at her voice, always so cold.

‘Nonsense, I’ll join them in a moment. Tommen seemed quite adamant that we’d all enjoy it.’ 

‘And you always do what you enjoy, don’t you Stark?’

‘Mrs. Baratheon –‘

‘Do not call me that.’ She says with a bitterness he had never heard.

‘Cersei…I don’t know what idea you have about Myrcella and I, but this is no game for me. I love her, truly.’

‘I wish you hadn’t said that. You can’t honestly think I am going to let you steal my only daughter, can you?’

‘I don’t want to steal her, I want to love her.’

‘They are one in the same, little wolf. Love is the most selfish thing of all.’

‘It doesn’t have to be,’ he protested, thinking of how the love he shared with Myrcella was kind and selfless and good.

‘And yet it is,’ she said, and the finality of it made her sound like someone who had fought all of her battles and lost.

‘There is more than one kind of love, though,’ she continues, ‘You, you love your siblings don’t you?’

‘Of course I do,’ suddenly stern. He did not like this line of questioning.

‘You wouldn’t want anything to happen to them would you?’

‘I will protect my family until my last breath. Do not threaten me, Cersei.’

‘I do not wish to – I want you all to live long and happy lives. You, and beautiful Sansa, that cousin she fucks, Bran and Arya, even little Rickon…he’s what, 10 now? 11? So young. Would you really sacrifice his little life before it starts?’

‘What are you trying to say? You would really murder them? A boy of 11 just to control who your daughter dates? Are you mad?’ he asks and searches her face for any sign that she is bluffing, or better yet, kidding.

‘Of course I am – I love my children, and love is the most selfish thing in the world. I would burn cities to the ground to keep them safe. Wouldn’t you?’

He thought of the kids, yes, he would burn cities to the ground to keep them safe, but he wouldn’t need to.

‘I come from a powerful family, Cersei, you may think before you threaten us.’

‘What is power? Is it those weak guards you’ve placed discreetly all around your family?’ she asks lightly, as she grabs her phone and turns it to him so he can see pictures of the dead guards, so many of them. His siblings never even knew about them, he had always ordered they keep a safe distance, ‘They died with a single word from me. Power is power, little wolf, only when you have the fortitude to use it.’

‘You just admitted to ordering the murders of 12 men. What is to stop me from putting you in jail? 

‘You could, little wolf, but which of your siblings will die before I am taken?’

He stands there silently, looking at this horrible, cold woman. For a brief dark moment he thinks how easy it would be to squeeze the life out of her. She smirks at him, as if reading his thoughts.

‘End it. Today.’ She says and walks towards the door and then, as if feeling the need to nail down her point she turns to him and says, ‘I love my daughter, but hear me and hear me well when I see that I would sooner see her dead than wasting away in the Northern hovel you claim as home.’

Robb looked out the window and saw Myrcella egging on Jon, beckoning him to chase her, he saw the glint in Jon’s eyes as he lunged and could see, more than hear the peal of her laughter when he picked her up and carried her, running around in a victory lap of some kind. Sansa looked on lovingly and he thought of his parents, he thought of what they would want for their children. He would do anything to protect them. He would burn cities to the ground, and as it turned out, he would break his own heart to keep them safe.

PRESENT DAY

He had started telling Jon slowly, and then as he went on it all spilled out of him. The dead guards, the coldness in her gaze. 

He had looked into the deaths, quietly. Had disappeared on 'business trips' following any lead that could trace them back to Cersei. Anything he could do to put her away, so that he might live his life again. 

He had doubled up on security for his family, he made sure that he got regular reports. He had put a tail on Myrcella as well, just in case.

He had known that she had come to Winterfell. It was only two weeks after that day in the Riverlands, back when she had still been calling every day, determined to know what had gone wrong, intent on fixing it. It had been so hard knowing that she was so close, but he didn't dare see her. Everything was so fresh then and he knew that if he saw her, his resolve would crumble.

Jon took it all in and Robb was surprised to see no surprise in his face, "I knew it. I fucking knew it."

"Jon I - "

"No. Enough is enough. This is what she does Robb, it's what her father has always done. Don't you see? This is how they have amassed that fortune. It's all blood money. You think she can threaten us? Our kids? Kill our men? For the love of the gods she threatened her own daughter! Why is she still breathing?"

"She's Ellie's mother, Jon. Whatever else she is..." Robb says and while it's true, he knows it isn't the reason he hasn't killed her. He looks at Jon, looks at the anger in his eyes, and muses, "She may be proud, Jon but she isn't foolish. Don't you think she'd have some contingency if she mysteriously went missing or turned up dead?" 

Recognition dawns on Jon's face now, Robb can see him mulling this over. 

"We'll find a way, Robb. I swear to you, she will not win this."

Robb thought about the anger and pain he had seen in Myrcella’s eyes tonight, and said, "She already has."

****  
Myrcella stood in the driveway shivering, waiting for her taxi to arrive. She was leaving tonight, she couldn't stay here a moment longer knowing he was so close. 

Her lips still stung from their kiss and his words echoed in her head. He was trying to save her pride, she told herself, he couldn't possibly, after all this time still love her. 

Sansa caught up to her when he taxi was pulling up. The two girls talked over one another in a rush to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Sansa... I just I can't be here... I thought I could but..."

"But my idiot brother practically declared his love for you on the dance floor after years of silence?" Sansa asked and as though all of the emotions of the day caught up with them both, they let out a hysterical giggle. 

"Something like that..." Myrcella, a sad smile still on her face. 

"El, I know how hard this must have been for you. It means the world to me and Jon. We love you so much."

"As I love both of you, San." She says pulling her friend into a warm hug, "Now you take that gorgeous husband of yours and have a truly decadent time on your honeymoon. I'll see you when you come to the Riverlands to pack up the flat."

Myrcella hadn't even allowed herself to think of what it would be like when Sansa moved up North. She hadn’t lived without her best friend in over four years, and even her darkest hours, she had always found solace with Sansa. She couldn’t begrudge her friend the move, Jon and the rest of her family were up here, Winterfell was her home.

After a seemingly long flight, Myrcella let herself into the penthouse. It was dark and empty and she didn’t bother turning on the lights as she undressed and got into bed. She hadn’t checked her phone once since she left, and as she finally did, she saw an onslaught of messages: 2 from Sansa, 3 from Jon, 1 from Bran, and one from an unknown number.

It read: ‘Hi Myrcella, I hope you don’t mind but you left so quickly, so I asked Margery for your number. This is Willas by the way, anyway, I was wondering if I might be able to take you for a drink this week?’

Myrcella looked at the phone blankly, deciding to leave a response until tomorrow. She texted Sansa briefly to let her know that she had gotten home safe, that she was fine. She pulled the covers up to her chin and tried to dream that it was true.

****

“Mr. Stark, there has been a development with Myrcella Baratheon…,” Jory, the head of his security told him as he sat with Jon in the conference room.

“What’s going on, is she alright?” he asks and worry seizes him immediately.

“As far as we can tell yes, but she’s started spending time with someone new, a man named Willas Tyrell. It’s only been about a month or so, they see each other about twice a week. I’ve prepared a dossier for you. He seems to check out, but we’ll keep digging.”

Robb stares at the file for a long moment before he opens it. On the top is a picture of Myrcella, looking beautiful and elegant in a light pink dress, her arm slinked through Willas Tyrell, who was looking no less than ecstatic, as his head turned to her to catch something she had said. 

Jon slowly reaches over and drags the file towards himself, closing it lightly as he says, “Thank you, Jory. Please bring all files relating to Miss Baratheon to me directly.”

Robb could kiss his cousin then. Since Jon had returned from his honeymoon, he and Robb had been working tirelessly to find anything they could use against Cersei. It was difficult, trying to figure out which strings to pull without alerting anyone in the Lannister family. Their information network was legendary and the Starks were not known for duplicity. There was something to do with Elia Martell, a woman who would have been about Cersei’s age had she not been brutally murdered with her children. She was from Dorne, and Robb was traveling there this weekend under the guise of a business venture to see what he might uncover. 

Robb tried to tell himself that it was good that Myrcella was dating. She was only 22, and she had spent the last three years of her life in mourning. He wanted to ask for the file back, desperate to see if she looked happy, if she looked at the Tyrell boy like she used to look at him. 

Instead he turned to Jon and said, “What are the chances that Sansa made enough dinner for three?”

Jon looks at him and smirks, “Let’s go see.”

****

“Perfect, that’s absolutely perfect El, I am loving this!” Loras shouted to her as he peered in the camera from behind the photographer, “Now can turn away from the camera and go into a lunge like you’re about to start a race –“

Myrcella does what he says, getting into the stance she used to take for relays in high school. 

“What did I tell you boys? Best backside in the business – “ he says and Ellie turns to glare at him, still in her pose, her ponytail whipping around, her eyes narrowed, “That’s it, that’s perfect!” 

She was wearing tangerine colored capri leggings, with a tangerine and white striped sports bralet, and she marvelled at how good they felt. Leave it to Margery Tyrell, the Queen of the Red Carpet, to turn athletic wear into couture. 

She jumped up and turned to her side, jumping up as though she was going over a hurdle, her form perfect even after all these years. Not for the first time, she regretted coming up with her own pose. The photographer and Loras were so taken with it, that they had her repeat it for the better part of the afternoon. In the Dornish heat, Myrcella put the new line through it’s paces.


	10. Chapter 10

Robb arrived at the Sunspear Hotel, already sweating through his button down shirt. He had never been this far South, and he didn’t imagine he would make the trip again. Wheeling his carry on to the front counter, he gave the maitre’d his name and smiled politely when the man started making a fuss. 

“Yes, of course, Mr. Stark! You will love it here, we have you in a Deluxe King Suite overlooking the charming water gardens. Will you require a dinner reservation?”

“No, thank you. I’ll fend for myself.” He says and gives him a wolfish grin, eager to extricate himself. 

He was here for one purpose, and one purpose only, to meet with Oberyn Martell, ‘The Prince’ as the tabloids called him, and learn everything there was to know about his sister and the Lannisters. 

When he got to his room, far too large for one person, he stripped down and showered immediately. Though the water is cold it does nothing to quell his erection. Random arousal was one of the prices to be paid for a nearly celibate existence. He took his cock in his hand and started to rub it as his mind wandered to all different images. Beauties with red hair and black hair and brown hair danced in his head, every color except gold, and he worked himself vigorously, desperate to be done with it. When he came it was loud and a relief but there was no pleasure in it. 

As the sun starts to go down he dresses in black jeans and a white t shirt, in search of a drink. He heads out to the bar at the Water Gardens, ordering a scotch neat from the overly tanned bartender. 

It isn’t very crowded yet, there are small pockets of people in different stages of drunk. An old man in the corner looks like he’s been there since noon. A breath taking beauty in a red kaftan smokes a cigarette as she pretends to listen to her less comely companion, her eyes on Robb. There is a loud group in the corner, a group of men and a few girls, out of Robb’s eyeline.

Two figures extricate themselves from the group and head towards the bar. Robb can’t see the girl, but recognizes the man as Loras Tyrell. He is wearing white linen pants and a deep v-neck top, his man-bun on top his head. He swings his arm around the girl and it is then that Robb sees the familiar halo of gold, as they dance around her face as she laughs at something Loras says. 

He looks down at his drink, not wanting to draw attention to himself by leaving. His head down, he let’s his gaze go back to the pair.

Loras orders something from the bar that makes Ellie squeal in protest. Robb can’t tell what it is but it comes in a shot glass and she shudders when she swallows it, before looking at Loras and letting out that familiar giggle. She is bronzed from the sun, and she almost looks like the girl he knew. 

They turn to walk away from him and he follows them with his eyes. He watches them talking animatedly, Myrcella shaking her head at him as Loras nods emphatically. He says something, and she must not have a retort because she puts her hands on his hips. He smirks at her, not wise Robb thinks to himself, and Myrcella in one fluid motion pushes him back into the pool. Robb let’s himself chuckle then, it’s the same thing she would do to Jon if he were here. 

Loras comes out laughing, and she is cooing phony apologies at him. He splashes her gently and she says something that makes him laugh. Always too kind, she reaches her hand out to help him out, and as if he couldn’t have planned it any better, Loras takes her hand in his and pulls her face first into the pool. 

The whole bar has turned to look at them now. Had it been people less breathtakingly gorgeous than Myrcella and Loras then people probably would have been annoyed, but Myrcella’s laugh is high and girlish, and Loras’ arms are strong as he picks her up and dunks her again, and the whole thing is undeniably charming. 

Robb finishes his scotch, gets his bill and turns to leave without another glance at them. He makes his way to the elevator, stopped by that overly enthusiastic maitre’d yet again. Minutes later he finally steps inside the elevator and presses the button for his floor. As the doors start to close he hears, “Hold that please!” and out of habit lunges forward to keep the doors apart.

He waits there and is shocked when Myrcella Baratheon, dripping wet, with her yellow sundress clinging to her, making her utterly irresistible steps inside, her lips parting in an ‘o’ of surprise. 

****

Thank the gods for Loras Tyrell, Myrcella had thought as she made her way to the elevators. She adored him, but couldn’t stand the rest of the people who had come along for the photoshoot. The girls were insipid, and the boys were somehow even cattier. They all got rowdy when they drank, and this, being the night before they leave, had been no exception. 

Sensing her growing annoyance, and he had dragged her to the bar and made her laugh like he always did. The alcohol had gone to her head, and she couldn’t help but push him in the pool when he had told her that she had bewitched his elder brother. 

She had deserved to be pulled into the pool, and the cool water felt glorious against her overheated skin, the shock of the immersion wiping away any affect of the alcohol. More importantly, her sopping dress, nearing indecent, had given her the perfect excuse to retire for the evening. Desperate to put on her pajamas and curl up in bed, she had rushed to the closing elevator doors, “Hold that please!” Mercifully the person had heard her and she made her way quickly, eager to thank the kind stranger. 

The doors have already closed behind her when she sees who it is. His close are simple, but they put his toned body on display and her breath hitches when she sees that it is Robb. She opens her mouth to say something, but her face is frozen there, looking at him in surprise. 

He seems just as shocked as her, and ever so slowly his eyes rake over her body. It is then that Myrcella realizes what she must look like. Her hair falls in wet ringlets, some of it sticking to her face. Her yellow silk sundress, which billows around her when dry, clings to her body, and she knows that her nipples have peaked from the coolness of the air conditioning. 

She goes to press the button for her floor, desperate for something to do, but sees that the light for her floor, the top one, has already been pressed. She looks at Robb and his body is in the same position as hers on the opposite end of the little box, they have both pressed themselves against the wall in an effort to give one another space. 

When the ding goes and the doors open they both stand there, waiting for the other to move. She doesn’t know how long they hesitate, but they both sigh in frustration at the same time and go to move from the elevator, colliding with one another. He reaches his hands out to steady her and she flinches involuntarily. She can’t help but see the pain in his eyes and she hates that she feels bad for it. What did she have to apologize for anyway?

She exits the elevator and turns to the left to go to her room. He gives her a last look before he turns to the right, walking down the hall to his. She is close to her room when she thinks of his words the last time they saw one another, ‘I have never, I could never stop loving you,’ he had said. 

She starts to follow him then, it is the first time in three years that they are in the same place on their own and she is determined to get an explanation out of him. She doesn’t say anything, just walks steadily behind him. He doesn’t turn but she can tell that he knows that she is following him. 

He slows when he gets to his door at the end of the hall and she catches up with him as he slides his key card in. She hears the lock click but he doesn’t move to go in. 

“Robb,” she says and is surprised by how strong her voice sounds. He presses his forehead to the door and she knows that she is getting to him, “Robb. Look at me,” when he doesn’t turn she decides to goad him, “It’s been three years and you still can’t face me? I never took you for a coward.”

He turns then, and she expects to see rage in his eyes, but all she sees is pain. She wants to yell at him, she wants to hit him, she wants to make him feel as empty and lost as she had felt all these years. But his face is so sad, and his eyes are pleading with her, for what she didn’t know. She opens her mouth to yell, but halfway through it she leans in and kisses him instead.

She let’s out a cry as his fingers dig into her body, dragging her with him into his room. He makes short work of her dress as he lifts it over her head, tossing it halfway across the room. He pulls her back to him and turns her around, pressing her back to his front as he leans down and nips her neck. She can feel his hardness against her and she lets out a deep moan. Desperate she reaches behind her to undo his jeans and he flips her around again, she always was putty in his grip. 

She pulls down his jeans as he yanks off his shirt, capturing her face in his hands as he attacks her mouth with his. She reaches behind herself and undoes her bra, and they both let out a hiss when they feel their skin meet. He rips her underwear off of her, the delicate fabric useless against his strength. He dips a finger in her and groans by how ready she is.

There is no foreplay, there isn’t time. He picks her up and carries her to the bed, plopping her on it gently as he climbs on top of her. Her legs spread beneath him and she feels him at her entrance immediately. He kisses her now and as his tongue enters her mouth he shoves himself inside of her, her cry echoing in the back of his throat. 

He takes her like a man possessed and her hips thrust up to meet him. He is holding her so tightly that she knows she will be bruised and she welcomes it, wanting him mark to last on her skin. It doesn’t last long, his need is as great as hers and the familiar feel of one another’s bodies after so many years has them both crying out after only a few minutes. She feels the moan building loud in her throat as the pleasure builds in her to the point of pain, and when he follows after her, it is with her name on his lips.

****

He wants to hold her but he can’t. She has risen from the bed so quickly, that he didn’t even have time to plant a kiss to her lips. 

She is walking across the room quietly, picking up her things. He watches her put on her bra and he is reminded of how he had always been as interested in watching her dress as he had watching her undress. She crosses to the other side of the bed and picks up her dress, giving him a full view of her perfect ass and he digs his nails into the bed to keep from going to her. She pulls it on and it is still sopping and wrinkled. While before it had made her look like a goddess of every man’s truest desire, now it made her look like a little kid, disheveled and cold. She picked up her torn underwear, useless now and dropped them in the wastebasket and slid on her sandals. When she has grabbed her bag she heads to the door without ever looking at him. 

He has to find a way to stop her, but all he can thing to say is her name, “Ellie.”

She pauses, with her hand on the door handle and looks at him in exasperation. She goes to leave but seems to think better of it, putting her back down gently.

“What did I do?” she asks.

He knew she would question him, how could she not? They had been madly in love and he had left her without an explanation.

“You didn’t do anything…it’s complicated…” he says, running his hands through his hair, trying to think of a graceful way to end the conversation.

“Enlighten me, then,” she says calmly. 

“I can’t –“

“Is there someone else?,” she asks and he knows that if he were smart he would tell her yes. He would tell her that she was wonderful, the best ever, but his heart belonged to another. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to her. More than that, he couldn’t let her think that of herself, that she could be replaced, that there could be anyone who could enter his heart once she made a home there. 

“No, there’s no one else.”

“Then what?” she asks, and he can tell that she had been hoping he would say yes. It was logical, something she could wrap her head around, something she could name. “Tell me – what did I do to make you go away? If this,” she says, gesturing to the bed, “Is any indication it isn’t because you suddenly found me repulsive…”

He can’t say anything. Of course she hadn’t done anything to make him go away, of course he didn’t find her repulsive. 

“Was it my mother? Did she say something to you,” she asks and he tries to keep his face stoic, but she sees right through him and narrows her eyes, “Because I don’t speak to her anymore…I haven’t, not since Tommen’s funeral. I accused her once, of driving you away and she didn’t deny it. She only told me that I would love again. Whatever she did Robb, whatever she said, please stop punishing me for it. I don’t love her, I’m not like her.” she has come over to the bed now, tears running freely from her eyes. This girl, this elegant, graceful, composed girl has crumbled before him and it is all his fault, “I’m good, I am so good for you and I think you know that. Please Robb, you have to forgive me – you have to forgive me for whatever she did,” she says and she ends on a whimper, her fists clenched pushing against his chest. 

She is wordlessly begging him to put his arms around her, and he complies finally, pulling her into his embrace. There is a lump in his throat when he feels how perfectly she fits in his arms like she always had. She leans up to kiss him but is startled when his hands grab her upper arms, gently pushing her away from him. 

He sits up straight, and looks deep into her eyes. “I can’t, you need to forget me,” and is surprised by how hollow his voice sounds. 

She flinches away from him now, like she had in the elevator. He is relieved, it will be easier if she hates him. She backs away from the bed, and when she looks at him now it is the first time she has ever looked like her mother. He watches it happen, he would never imagine that it could be a visible thing, but nevertheless, he can see the exact moment that her heart hardens against him.


	11. Chapter 11

Jon can’t be sure, but he thinks that something happened between Robb and Myrcella and Dorne. He hadn’t known she was going, she may have told Sansa but the information had never made its way to him.

He had reviewed the pictures countless times, her head thrown back in laughter at something Loras had said, the look of surprise as he pulled her in the pool, her dress clinging to her as she ran into the hotel, a smile still on her lips.

In some of these pictures, he saw a man with dark reddish brown curls, on the perimeter, but none showed his face. He’d bet his stock in the company that it was Robb.

Robb had returned sullen and defensive, even as he brought Oberyn Martell with him. The Martell was a unique man, he took his pleasures freely and didn’t try to hide his more ruthless nature. Jon didn’t think they had anything to fear from him necessarily though, he seemed motivated by one simple desire: To destroy the Lannisters.

He liked Oberyn, there was something to be said for someone who was so unapologetically himself. He travelled with two of his daughters, and their wicked beauty set the North on fire. Sansa and Arya had taken to them, and the girls could be found at all hours of the night dancing in one club or another.

Jon was sure something had happened in Dorne when he started getting more and more reports on Myrcella. She still woke up and took her early morning run at 6 am, no matter the day. She worked late hours at Varys publishing, and he knew from Sansa that she had recently been promoted, even though she had only recently just started. What told him that something had happened though, is how she spent her nights. While before she had gone to events for the clothing line, grabbed dinner with friends occasionally, and spent most of her time with Sansa, she now spent almost every evening with one Tyrell or another.

He had never given much thought to the Tyrells before now. He had known that Sansa worshipped Margery and that both girls had developed a friendship with Loras, but it had all seemed so innocuous before. Now, as he reviewed the pictures - Loras holding an impromptu photoshoot with Myrcella in the middle of rush hour traffic, Willas dancing too closely with her, his hands all over her in a dark club, Margery and her stumbling out of some bar, clearly drunk and laughing at some unknown joke - he gave them more thought.

He wondered briefly if this is how her friendship with him and Sansa and Robb had seemed from the outside. He knew from the inside that it was full of love and warmth and trust, but if someone had made a study of it, what would they have seen? Because as Jon looked at the countless pictures of the Tyrells’ simpering smiles and Ellie’s halo of gold in the middle of it all, all he could think is that she looked like a noble castle, surrounded on all sides, unaware of a looming siege.

****

“Shots shots shots!” Loras shouted, banging his hand on the counter with every word.

Myrcella couldn’t even remember how many she had had at this point. At least two with Margery, one with Willas and now? They had been out for hours, bouncing from one club to another, easing their way in, no bouncer in their right mind would make the Tyrells wait. They were beautiful and chic and from the second richest family in the country, she being from the first.

It had become a routine of hers, going out with the Tyrell siblings. In the back of her mind it vaguely reminded her of another foursome she had been apart of, but any thoughts of him were unwelcome, so she never focused on it. She dreamed of it though, her subconscious pulling her back down night after night. If one knew what to look for, they would always know when she’d had a nightmare, because the very next night without fail she would always dance a little longer, laugh a little harder, drink a little more.

She’d had a doozy the night before. It had been their wedding, so much like Jon and Sansa’s. Robb had been beautiful in his tuxedo, his eyes shimmering at her in need and love. They had said the traditional Northern words, and as he had gone behind her to fasten the cloak he had grabbed hold of her throat and said simply, “I can’t, you need to forget me.”

So tonight she was in rare form. She had allowed Margery to dress her, and the gold lame mini dress she wore cut low at the neck and high at the thigh. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and her eyeliner made her eyes glimmer with viciousness. She hadn’t recognized the girl in the mirror and was grateful for it.

The Tyrells were all talking about something animatedly, but about what she can neither hear nor does she particularly care. The song in the club is primal and her body starts moving to the beat. She slithers against Willas, who looks down at her even now, months into their relationship like she is some wholly unbelievable thing. His arm comes around her shoulders, and she moves against him, teasing him now trying to coax him back to the dance floor. 

"So is it really true that your family's company is merging with the Frey's?" Loras asks her, and if she had been less drunk she might have noticed how his voice no longer sounded so belligerent.

She furrowed her brow, "Fury Corp? No way my uncles hate the Freys. But you know that Loras..." she says referring to his relationship with her uncle Renly. She had sat on the board of her father's company since Joffrey had died and would know if they were moving towards a merger. 

"No I mean Lannister Co." he says.

Her green eyes flash violently, sobering her, "The Lannisters are not my family." 

She sees the look Margery and Loras share but she is bored of the subject already and wordlessly leads Willas to the dance floor. 

He follows willingly, like he always does, and she forgets about the Tyrells and the Freys and the Lannisters and most of all, the Starks as his hands move over her, guiding her body. She was always in control of their relationship mentally, pulling him closer and pushing him away depending on her mood, but physically he manipulated her body on the dance floor as much as he did in bed, and she gave up control, willingly courting the oblivion. 

She doesn't know how long they dance, but it must be hours because when they finally enter her apartment, it is light outside. Willas' hand is on her ass, his hardness pressing against her, she had teased him for too long tonight and she knew he would take her rough and fast. She is about to lead him to her bedroom when she glances at the couch, sees him sitting there stoic, his eyes rimmed in red from fatigue. 

"Get your fucking hands off of her, Tyrell," Jon says angrily.

****

“The thing to remember, Stark,” Oberyn says as his eyes follow a foreign beauty as she walks away, “Is that they aren’t people, they are Lannisters. The minute you humanize them you lose. They aren’t playing the same game that we are. They aren’t motivated by the same things.”

Robb runs his hand through his hair, that was the fourth ‘thing to remember’ since they had arrived at the bar an hour before. 

“I don’t know, Oberyn, she kept talking about love. That sounds pretty fucking human to me.”

“She also said she would kill her own daughter… she doesn’t know what love is. It’s that whole family man – they get them when they’re young and they twist things until they genuinely believe they see the world like everyone else. But they don’t. They aren’t capable of it.”

Robb thought of Ellie. Did she see the world like everyone else? Maybe now…now that she had been dragged through hell and back. But before? No…she saw the world differently than anyone he had ever known. She saw goodness and strength in even the bleakest moments. Something told him that wasn’t exactly the alternative perspective that Oberyn was talking about.

Joffrey on the other hand…he had been pure Lannister. He saw people for the pleasure they could bring him, regardless of what it brought them. No wonder he had been Cersei’s favourite, he was the truest lion of all her children. Tommen had been too weak, Ellie too kind. 

“So how do we take her down?” he asks him as he gestures to Ros for another beer.

“Take her down?” Oberyn asks incredulously, “You think I am in this so that you can get your girl back? I’m sure she’s sweet, my friend, but this isn’t about her. It has never been about her. It is that family, they are a poison to this country.”

Robb can’t disagree with him. Yes, he wants Myrcella back, desperately. But more than that, he wants to end the madness that had descended on the country during the unofficial reign of the Lannister’s. If they could silence a wolf, what were they doing to the sheep?

Robb nods once, “So how do we do it?”

Oberyn looks at him, his smile wide and threatening, “When you go after a hydra, you don’t kill one of the heads, Robb. You go after its heart.”

“The money…” Robb says an idea already forming in his mind.

“The blood source of the Lannister’s. Let’s drain them.” 

When they cheers, Robb wonders vaguely if he is making a deal with one devil to rid himself of another, but when he thinks of Cersei’s cold, mirthless smile, he finds it couldn’t matter to him less.

****

“Jon! What are you doing here? Is Sansa okay?,” Myrcella asks, panic in her voice.

She sees Jon’s eyes soften as they turn to her, “Sansa’s fine…don’t worry.”

“So what – what is it? Why are you here?”

He gives her his crinkly smile, “I thought I was always welcome here…”

She laughs at the mischief in his eyes and falls into his arms, hugging him fiercely (he had the benefit of receiving the hug meant for Sansa as well). 

“You are, of course you are,” she asks as she pulls away, his hands still on her waist, her hands till on his arms. 

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Willas shuffling nervously, and she tries not to think about how she had forgotten all about him the moment her old life entered into the room. 

She extricates herself from Jon’s grasp now and says, “Jon, um have you met Willas?”

Willas, ever the gentleman, extends his hand to Jon, “Of course, I was at your wedding. Congratulations, man, Sansa is a great girl.”

Jon shakes it warily, “She is indeed.”

Myrcella never understands the ways of men, how they seemed to decide on sight if someone was a friend or foe, but she is too curious to dwell on it.

“Let me make some coffee, Willas, are you staying?” she asks, and tries not to make it obvious what her preference is.

“No, why don’t I leave you guys to it?,” he says and Myrcella is relieved immediately, “I’ll see you tomorrow…or tonight rather, for dinner with my family.”

She had forgotten all about that. He had asked her last week, and she had agreed readily, mostly curious to meet his infamous grandmother. 

“And Jon, if you’re still in town, please do come along.” 

It was such a strange thing to offer, given the reception Jon had given him, and Myrcella can’t help but give him a look. However, what was stranger when Jon said, “Thanks man, I’ll be there.”

If Willas is surprised he doesn’t show it. He simply nods at Jon, kisses Myrcella’s cheek and leaves. 

“He … seems nice,” Jon says, and it is such a pathetic attempt at normalcy that she can’t help but laugh.

“You put on the coffee, I’m going to go wash my face and change.”

Her heels clack on the floor as she walks down the hall to her room. When she opens the door she is nearly bowled over by a haze of white. 

“Ghost!” she says as he truly does tackle her to the ground, licking her and nudging her with his nose as he curled himself in her lap (he was so large that he extend a full two feet on either side of her). She presses her face to his fur, smelling that familiar, comforting woodsy smell. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed Lady. 

After she had given him an appropriate amount of attention (he can be a real brat if he felt he was slighted), she went to wash her face and change out of her clothes that felt ridiculous the moment she saw Jon. She pulls on flannel pajama pants and an old rugby shirt of Tommen’s, slipping on her pink fuzzy slippers (Sansa had the same pair in blue).

“Is that international superstar Myrcella Baratheon? Tell me, tell me who are you wearing?” Jon asked, nailing an impression of the reporters on the red carpet.

She shoves him playfully before gratefully taking the cup of coffee he offers, curling up on the couch, Ghost hopping up next to her so he can rest his head in her lap. 

“I think he missed you,” Jon says.

She looks down at Ghost, rubbing his ears, and says, “Not as much as I missed him, or you for that matter. Tell me – how is married life?”

His cheeks pink at that, “Married life is…everything,” he says earnestly. 

“Good – I want you happy,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Right now, I’m more concerned with your happiness, Ellie.”

“What do you mean?”

“This life you’re living – it isn’t you.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Yeah, Jon. That’s kind of the point. I’m kind of over being me.”

“Unacceptable,” he says and it’s the first time she’s ever seen him angry with her. “You don’t get to stop being you. It doesn’t work like that. Where would we all be if you weren’t you? If you weren’t so uniquely fucking you, I never would have gotten to be with Sansa. She never would have gotten over the deaths of her parents. And R-“ he starts but shuts his mouth, knowing he’d gone too far.

“And what, Jon, what were you going to say? What would Robb be doing if I didn’t exist, if I wasn’t me? Probably the same thing he is doing now – because I am not a part of his life. Look – I am happy that you and Sansa are together, and I’m happy that Sansa pulled herself out of the darkness, because you are two of the most important people in the world to me. But what did I get out of being me? I’m an orphan. My brother is dead. The only man I’ve ever loved left me. Forgive me, Jon, but what is the point of being good and strong if you still end up alone anyway?”

He doesn’t have an answer for her, as she had known he wouldn’t. Instead he says, “You didn’t seem so alone to me when you walked in here, what’s the deal with you and Tyrell?”

“He’s nice…” she says weakly, echoing his sentiment from before. 

“Maybe,” Jon says, as though he doesn’t believe it, “But you deserve better than nice, Ellie.”

“I had better than nice, and then I had nothing. I’ve learned not to reach for more.”

She stands then, too exhausted to continue the conversation. She kisses his cheek, doesn’t even bother gesturing to Sansa’s old room because she knows he’ll end up there anyway, and walks towards her bed. Ghost follows her, hops on the bed and she falls asleep clutching his fur, thinking of his brother.


	12. Chapter 12

With Jon out of town, Robb and Sansa spent most of their time together. He knew she hadn't quite forgiven him for the wedding, in truth she had never really forgiven him for leaving Ellie, but they were still as close as siblings can be.

She had turned into a marvellous cook. They had found their mother's old cookbook one afternoon and ever since then she had perfecting all of the old recipes. There was so much her mother hadn't written down, that she had just known by heart, and he was always surprised when he bit into something that brought him back to his childhood. He asked Sansa once, and she said she had just felt it.

He didn't question her. There were times when he was in a meeting and he found himself reacting to something before he had chosen to do so. It was in those moments that Ned Stark's voice came out of his mouth.

They were the oldest Starks, their parents would always be a part of them.

They are sitting by the fire after dinner when Sansa's phone bleeps. She brightens when she looks at it and Robb looks at her questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh it's just Jon, he sent me a picture, he's -" she says but stops herself.

"He's with Ellie," Robb says, stroking Lady's fur.

Now it's Sansa's turn to raise her eyebrow, "I didn't realize we said her name," she says lightly though the anger isn't entirely absent from her voice.

Robb's stomach twists as it always does when he thinks of her, them, the life they could all be having.

"It's been three years Sansa. A name can't hurt me anymore," he says and knows himself to be a liar.

Sansa doesn't say anything, she simply clucks her tongue and responds to Jon, her fingers moving insanely fast across the small keyboard. She gets a message that makes her face scrunch up and she looks from him back to her phone.

"What are you and Jon planning?"

He shifts nervously but keeps his face stoic, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, dear brother, that a few months ago you went to Dorne and brought back Oberyn Martell, and all the power of Sunspear with him, and now Jon is in the Riverlands with Ellie, a trip he insisted I didn't join him on, and he is going to dinner at Olenna Fucking Tyrell's house."

He looked at Sansa and he knew he was caught. He could lie, but she was too bright, smarter than both him and Jon, and she was stubborn, she wouldn't let this go.

"Jon's an idiot for telling you that," he says in exasperation, though he's really just buying time.

"It's often considered a virtue when husbands don't lie to their wives. Now tell me, Robb, why are you allying yourself with people we can't control?"

"It's the Lannisters, Sansa. We're going to bring them down."

"So Ellie was right. What did Cersei do?"

He finds himself telling her the whole story, and like he had with Jon, he wonders what might have been if he had just told her sooner. She listened quietly, never interrupting. When he finished all she said was, "I knew you had never stopped loving her," and now all the anger has dissipated from her voice. She just looks at him with sadness.

"That kind of love never dies, Sansa," he said, quoting Jon from months earlier.

"What can I do? I want to help."

"San no. Everything I've done. Everything Jon has done. It's to keep you and the kids safe."

She balks at him now, his brave, stubborn sister, "They threatened me. They threatened our kids. They threatened Ellie. She's their blood, Robb. If they are capable of threatening her then no one in this country is safe until they are destroyed."

She's converted now, as passionate a pilgrim as he and Jon, as Oberyn.

"Ellie," Sansa says and now there is fear in her voice, "We have to tell her. We have to keep her safe."

"We can't tell her. Not yet. But trust me, she is safe, and after tonight she is going to be a lot safer."

****

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Myrcella says to Jon as they stand outside Olenna Tyrell’s front door. 

“Oh come on, Ellie, like I’d miss a chance to meet the legendary Queen of Thorns?” he asks her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes at him, bumping her shoulder against his. She was grateful he was here, in truth. She had only met the Tyrell matriarch a handful times, and the old woman’s knowing eyes unnerved her. More than that though, the moment she had seen Jon, her friendship with the Tyrell siblings just seemed all the more trivial. They were fun, she supposed, but Margery was no Sansa, Loras was no Jon, and Willas….

Jon knocks hard on the door and Myrcella wipes her palms on her black cocktail dress. Dinner at Mrs. Tyrell’s was always a formal affair.

“Miss Baratheon, Mr. Snow, welcome,” an ancient butler says as he steps aside to let them in, “Mrs. Tyrell, Miss Margery, Mr. Willas, and Mr. Loras are in the library, if you’ll follow me.”

She fights back laughter when she sees Jon blanch at the formal tone of the butler, standing up straighter as if being pulled up by a thread. She moved a little closer to him, and they both relaxed at the proximity.

“Oh El, you look lovely! Jon, it is such a pleasure to see you again, tell me, how is our Sansa?” Margery asks as she comes to press a kiss to each of their cheeks. 

“As do you,” Myrcella says politely, and it’s true, though Margery’s low cut dress is a bit risqué for a small family dinner. 

“She’s good thank you, she sends her love,” Jon says and only Myrcella hears the slight edge in his tone.

Willas greets them next, a kiss to her temple, a handshake for Jon. Then Loras, he simply winks at her before he hugs Jon, whose cheeks color as he removes himself from the embrace.

As always, Myrcella must go over to greet Olenna Tyrell, she does not rise for anyone. 

“Mrs. Tyrell, it’s so gracious of you to ask us to dinner. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” she says sweetly.

“Doubtful my dear, but it’s pretty to say so,” Olenna says off-handedly.

“May I introduce you to my dear friend, Jon Snow? Jon, this is Mrs. Olenna Tyrell…”

Olenna Tyrell rises now, “Ah the White Wolf, is it? News of your prowess reaches us even in this muddy wasteland,” she says to him, her watchful eyes appraising him, “Tell me, what was it like to castrate Randyll Tarly? I’d have quite enjoyed to see it, you know…”

“Then please accept my apologies, ma’am, I’ll have my secretary put you on the guest list for our next ritual sacrifice,” he says matter-of-factly, and the stoic young man and prickly old woman stare at one another for a long while before anyone says anything.

Finally she says, “See that you do.”

With that, they are all called to dinner.

****

“So he finally told you, did he? My money would have been on Jon, he can’t deny you anything once you open those pretty legs of yours,” Nymeria says to her as they are sipping their drinks at the bar.

“Nymeria, please! Of course Robb told me, I just can’t believe they kept it from me for so long.”

“I can – men in the North still believe women are the fairer sex,” Nymeria huffs.

“Why fight it?” Tyene asks, her voice like sugarplums, “It makes them easier to trick.”

Sansa looks at the two beauties on either side of her. They were so alike, but so different too. Nymeria, with her long flowing hair and easy grace, who walked like she was on a tight rope, and Tyene with her pixie cut and sweet voice, who glided as if on a cloud. They frightened Sansa, for all their grace and beauty they were so base in some ways. Decorum didn’t rule them, nor did any particular moral code. Though they put her on edge, they also made her feel strong. They didn’t look at her like someone in need of protection, they encouraged her to be someone who might be feared. 

“I don’t want to trick Jon and Robb, I just want to help them, and…”

“And what, she-wolf?” Nymeria asks, her eyes glimmering. 

“And I want the Lannisters to suffer,” Sansa says, thinking of all the pain they’ve caused, all of the people they’ve used.

“Oh they’ll suffer, you can rest easy on that one,” Tyene says and she is so casual about it that it is almost chilling. 

“But for now, let’s not rest until we are suffering tomorrow,” Nymeria says as she gestures to the bartender for another round of shots.

****

“They’ll start to wonder about us, all alone in here…” Jon says.

“I am far too old to fear loose talk,” the Queen of Thorns, “Now, Snow, tell me why you’re here.” 

“I’m here to see Myrcella, she’s a dear friend of mine, I’ll always be here for her,” Jon says and doesn’t even try to mask his meaning.

“Ah yes, little Myrcella, she seems to attract loyalty everywhere she goes,” she says, and her tone suggests that she doesn’t quite understand the motivation.

“Does she, indeed? And your grandchildren, are they loyal to Myrcella?” he asks, though he already knows the answer.

She looks at him as though she hasn’t decided if he is worth the truth, “My grandchildren are loyal to me. After that, it’s all whims.”

“So you admit that they searched her out on your directive.” 

“Admit? Have I been accused of something?”

“Not yet,” he says, his voice threatening.

“Look, child, I have respect for your family, and I was sorry to hear about your Aunt and Uncle, but men have been trying to take me down since I was younger than you. It’s going to take a lot more than a boy to frighten me, even if he is a wolf.”

“I didn’t come here to threaten you.”

“No, you came here to see Myrcella, you said so yourself. So tell me, what is it with this Lannister that makes her so different than the others?”

“She isn’t a Lannister, not truly.”  
“Her golden hair tells a different tale. She may be the sweetest of them, but their blood runs through her veins. She isn’t worth tearing apart a country for.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one. But tell me, what is it that makes you hate the Lannisters so? As far as I can tell, they’ve never harmed your family.”

“Exactly.”

“Forgive me, you’re going to need to elaborate.”

“The Tyrells have words you know, Growing Strong, stupid as they may be, they aren’t untrue. My family has amassed a greater fortune than every other great family in the country, apart from one. Yet, the Lannisters never came for us the way they did with other families, like the Reynes, or the Martells, they’ve left us alone. Do you know why?”

“Because they don’t respect you,” Jon said. He doesn’t say it cruelly, only truthfully. The Tyrells had legendary wealth, but their power in the country had always been limited. They controlled the majority of food production in the Seven Kingdoms, but if you were to name the five most notable families in the country they wouldn’t make the list.

“We’ve given them enough cause not to in recent years. My husband was a fool, my son an even bigger fool, and his sons…”

“But not his daughter,” Jon thought. No, that girl was as clever as she was pretty.

The Queen of Thorns cracks a small smile at the thought of her eldest granddaughter, “No, not my granddaughter. But she has her own foolishness, and her ambition could set this world on fire.”

“So now you can see why I fear for Myrcella. They will leave her alone now.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized we had moved onto the demands part of the evening. Are you sure you don’t want a little more foreplay?” When he only looks at her she continues, “That may be a bit more challenging than I’d like. Willas considers himself in love with her.”

“I really can’t think of anything I care about less than what Willas considers. And I think that the support of the Martells and the Starks might mean more to you than the feelings of one foolish grandson.”

She smirks at him, “So there it is. It was obvious that merger was a cover, you’re moving against the Lannisters.”

“No more than you are.”

“If you think there is a way to bring them down with harming her, your more foolish than all the Tyrell men combined.”

Jon knew he had made a mistake. He had showed their hand too early, showed her his limits. The Starks would never move forward with a plan that would cause Ellie harm, and that loyalty made them vulnerable. Knowing that the damage had been done, he went the other route.

“Careful, now, someone less adept at negotiations might have taken that as a threat, thankfully I know that you spoke only out of the worry in your heart. I thank you for your worry, and now we’ll never need mention it again. The safety and happiness of Myrcella Baratheon is a condition for our support, in fact, it is our only condition.”

“Well then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh it's scary writing these characters, but fun too! Let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of her feet hitting the pavement echoed in her ears as Myrcella rounded her seventh mile. She had always been a runner, she had run track and cross country in high school, and craved the strain in her muscles and the clarity in her mind. But ever since that dinner at the Tyrell’s she had taken it to a whole other level.

Her heart rate was up, sweat running down her face, but she pushed on until she neared the top of the hill, where there was a lookout over the city.

She hadn’t heard from the Tyrell’s since that dinner. They hadn’t called her, not even Willas, and she hadn’t felt any need to urge them back into her life. She didn’t miss them at all, and that is what annoyed her.

She hitched her leg up on the bench so she could retie her shoe. As she looked to her left she saw a paparazzo, at a discreet distance. She recognized him, she had seen him a few times before. She was used to being followed, but her adrenaline was up and the combination of being lonely and never alone suddenly infuriated her.

She moved so quickly, that he seemed frozen in place, as she barreled over to him, “Which media outlet do you work for? Surely even you must know that there is a war going on in the Free Cities – wouldn’t that make a better cover story than my exercise routine?”

“Ma’am I don’t –“ he starts, but seems to think better of it.

He is built differently than most of the paparazzi she had seen. He is big and lean, most of the ones she had seen were small, paunchy men, and his voice… there was no mistaking it, he was from the North.

“You’re not a photographer, and yet you photograph me?” she says gesturing to the camera hanging from his neck. 

“Ma’am, I have no intention of harming you. Please, continue with your run, I will not get this close again,” even as he said it, she could see that he heard how creepy it made him sound.

“Who sent you? My grandfather? My mother?,” she sees him fight not to balk at the idea, “No…no Northerner would ever work for a Lannister. So who? Jon?” she asks and see him shift nervously, she was close but not right, “Robb?!”

“Ma’am…I’m here for your protection, but please, do not ask me to betray my employer. Forgive me, you just seemed a bit more troubled than usual… I will not get this close again,” he realized his mistake as soon as he made it and her eyes narrowed.

“Than usual? How long have you been ‘protecting’ me?”

“Ma’am…”

She really looked at him now, and he looked so familiar. She remembered then, Tommen’s funeral, a head towering above the rest. She doubled over as if she had been kicked. 

He didn’t say anything, he simply handed her a small bottle of water, which she took gratefully. After she had recovered slightly she looked at him, a smile twitching at her lips, “So which is it, body guard or personal assistant?”

He smiles now, in spite of himself it seems, and says, “Today its both, ma’am.”

“I think you know quite enough about me now to call me Myrcella don’t you, …?”

“Jory.”

“Well Jory, you’re going home today, and you’re taking me with you.”

“Ma-Myrcella…”

She doesn’t let him finish, she only starts to jog again, calling over her shoulder, “Do try to keep up this time,” and as she runs down the hill, all he can do is follow her.

****

It is after usual business hours, only a skeleton staff remained. Around the conference table sat members from three families: the Starks, the Martells, and the Tyrells. Jon and Robb huddle around her, while the Sand Snakes flanked their father, the Queen of Thorns sat with Margery, Loras and Willas somewhat removed from the two women. 

“The Freys are a dead end,” Loras says, “They won’t betray the Lannisters, they aren’t smart enough to do so and they relish being on the winning side for once.”

“That’s no surprise, the Freys are not known for their fortitude,” Oberyn says, as though bored of the topic already.  
More and more Sansa finds herself agreeing with this family from Dorne than the family she had spent so much time with. Jon had told her that he had won the Tyrells to their side when he returned to Riverrun. While she knew they were the second wealthiest family and the country, and she had a fondness for them, particulary Margery, she had to admit, they wouldn’t have been her first choice in allies. She had always known them to be vein, trivial people, but as she looked at Margery, she thought that was perhaps all just a ruse. The idea frightened her, no one ever wanted to question beauty for fear of tarnishing it. It made the siblings lethal.

Robb was about to say something, when they all heard a commotion outside the door.

“Please miss, he does not wish to be disturbed,” Jeyne, Robb’s new secretary was saying.

“Then he’s in for a disappointment,” Sansa hears someone say, and immediately she knows it to be Myrcella. A moment later she is proved right when her best friend glides through the door, seemingly floating on a cloud of anger and adrenaline. 

A man who Sansa vaguely remembers from when she was a child follows her, and he and Jeyne are stumbling over themselves to apologize to her brother.

Whatever Myrcella had been prepared to say appeared to fall out of her head the moment she looked around the table. Robb too is stunned so Sansa takes it upon herself to try to save the moment.

“Ellie – this is such a pleasant surprise, I wish you had told me you were coming, I would have met you at the airport myself!” she says, going over to her friend like she would usually to draw her into an embrace.

She feels Myrcella hesitate at first, before pulling her close.

“What’s going on,” her friend whispers quietly in her ear, “Not here,” Sansa returns. 

Myrcella doesn’t heed her council, Sansa can’t even blame her for it because it is what she would do in the same situation. She watches as Myrcella recovers from the shock, and if she weren’t so afraid, she would smile as Myrcella drew herself up to her full height, walking slowly and purposefully towards the table, seemingly relishing in the silence surrounding her.

“The Starks, the Martells, and the Tyrells,” Myrcella muses, “Should our government be afraid?”

Jon clears his throat, as Oberyn looks at her in open amusement, Willas shifting nervously. There was a seat at the end of the table opposite Robb and Sansa actually does crack a smile when Myrcella strides over to it, looking briefly over her shoulder at Jory who comes over at once to pull it out for her.

Sansa quickly goes over to her seat by Robb, not wanting to miss a moment of this. She notices that Myrcella doesn’t even glance at Willas, the man she had been seeing for the past few months. Her gaze is on Robb, at the head of the table, and Sansa can feel the discomfort radiating off of him as he fights to meet her withering stare. It was the first time Sansa had ever noticed the resemblance between Myrcella and her mother.

****

When Robb speaks, it is not to address her, “Jory, you had a very specific set of instructions, is there something about them that was confusing to you?”

Myrcella rolls her eyes, “Don’t blame Jory. He’s been watching me for what, three years without my knowing? It seems he understood your instructions perfectly, I on the other hand have been having some trouble with them,” and she hears the anger in her voice. ‘I can’t, you need to forget me’ he had said. Who was he to talk? 

“Ellie, it was me – I – I wanted you safe,” Jon says and he is so unused to lying that Myrcella can’t help but let a small smile out.

“I am sure this melodrama is positively riveting to all of you children, but perhaps on your own time? Myrcella, this isn’t about you dear, it never has been.”

Myrcella looks at Mrs. Martell, before her eyes slide to Margery, who’s light blue eyes show no signs of apology, to Loras who only winks at her as always, and then to Willas who at least has the decency to look chagrined. 

“Well for someone of little consequence, I have been very well tended. Only the snakes of Dorne haven’t slithered around me. Should I be insulted, prince?” she asks, directing the question at Oberyn, using his nickname.

His smile is menacing, but there is humor in it, “I meant you no offence, little girl, I’d be more than happy to slither your way, all you had to do is ask.”

Jon and Robb nearly growl at him but Myrcella smirks, it was always encouraging when someone lived up to their reputation. 

“So, if you aren’t overthrowing the country, I can think of only one reason you three families would gather. Exactly, how are you planning on taking the Lannisters down?”

This is the first time Robb speaks to her and he says, “Myrcella, please go home. I can’t have you here.”

“This isn’t about you, either Robb. Now tell me, what is your plan?”

“Your f-the Lannisters,” Oberyn says, “Are in power because of one thing: their money. In order to destroy them, we need to bleed them dry.”

“Enough stating of the obvious. Our problem Myrcella, is that we can’t seem to find their weakness,” Olenna Tyrell says, and it is the first time she has ever looked at her with anything verging on respect. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Myrcella asks, as she looks around the table at ten pairs of questioning eyes, she lets herself smile grimly, “It’s me.”

****

It was infuriating to Robb that he couldn’t disagree with her. As soon as she said it, relief swept through the room, the Martells and Tyrells eager to have a plan. It had formed quickly after that, Myrcella speaking eagerly with Nymeria and Margery, Olenna and Oberyn practically drawing up battle plans. 

Only he, Jon and Sansa stayed quiet, that is until it was unofficially agreed that Myrcella would bring them down from within their ranks. Their protests had been swift and virulent and ultimately, futile. It became clear that once the Martells and Tyrells had found their weapon, they would not easily let her go, and for her part, Myrcella showed no hesitation.

That had been weeks ago, and Robb still remembered as Myrcella calmly rose from her chair, citing the need not to be seen up North for the plan to work. She would be taking the Tyrell’s plane back to the Riverlands before making her way to Casterly Rock. She had bade them all a good evening, promising regular progress reports whenever safe, and had left as easily as that, not even glancing in his direction. 

He had gotten up angrily, following her down the hall. She had distance on him, but his fear pulled him forward. He had to stop her.

“Myrcella!” he had said, and he knew it was his use of her full name, rather than his tone that caused her head to snap in his direction.

“I have a plane to catch,” she says warily. He had wanted to snap at her that it was private, that they would wait, but more than that he wanted to hold her close, to tell her not to leave at all. 

She was even thinner than she had been the last time and he could see shadows under her eyes that he’d never seen before.

“You can’t do this – if you do this, then everything that has happened over the past few years will have been for nothing.”

“Everything that has happened over the past few years has been for nothing! Do you think that I would have stopped you from taking down my mother? Do you think I would have held you back from this? They are monsters! You broke us because you didn’t trust me,” she says angrily, guessing at parts of the truth.

“I broke us to keep you safe. To keep my family safe. Myrcella, you cannot go back there. Your mother – she doesn’t – “ he started to say but stopped himself. How could he tell her that her mother didn’t love her, that she had threatened her life?

“I am going back there Robb. I am going to take them apart brick by brick, if it kills me. Do you know how long I have waited for this?” she had said to him and he could not doubt that she meant it. Sansa had been right, she had lost too much, she was like a corpse already and so death held no sway over her. 

“Please, please, please Ellie,” he had said his fear getting the better of him, and then he had touched her face, and her neck and her waist. Her jaw clenched and she was so stern and lovely and sad and he was helpless before her. He fell to his knees, like he had wanted to so many months before, murmuring apologies and promises and pleas as he hugged her around the waist, “Please Ellie – no anything but this. We’ll go away, we’ll all go away, I’ll keep you safe, no one will harm you, don’t do this don’t go back. We’ll be together it will be just like before. I can’t lose you not this way do not do this to me please, no one will ever hurt you again.”

She looked down at him, and he saw that hardness in her heart that he had seen in the hotel room. Not for the first time, his heart broke over what he had done to her. He had build that hardness, forced it on her, and now it was a part of her. She removed herself from his grasp.

“You’re right, no one will ever hurt me again, Robb. I should thank you for that. After what you did, nothing, anyone in this world could do can hurt me. We are going to destroy them Robb, and then you will never see me again.”

He was helpless on his knees as she entered the elevator and a cry had escaped him as the doors closed. Her scent lingered in the air around him, and he gave into his pain.

Since then, Myrcella had ‘made up’ with her family. He didn’t need a guard following her now, it was all over the news, and once again her picture was everywhere. 

There was one of her at a gala, on the arm of her grandfather with a caption reading, “The prodigal cub returns!”; a cover story with her throwing out the first pitch at a baseball game, a smaller picture of her wearing an identical uniform as her tall handsome uncle as he threw her over his shoulder taking a victory lap; Myrcella looking poised, eating lunch at an outdoor café with her mother and Willas. 

That was part of the cover story that Willas the peacemaker had encouraged her to reach back out to her family. They had known her family would never buy it if she just showed up out of the blue. The country was in love with the golden couple, and Myrcella had quickly infiltrated the ranks of the Lannister’s company. 

They received regular reports. Through her they now had documentation on illegal over throws, proof her uncle, the imp, was certainly guilty of insider training, and that her other one had stabbed his former boss in the back, ousting him from the company before taking the shares for himself. They knew that her grandfather was disappointed in his children, and that her mother had a drinking problem. There was little love between her mother and the imp, and perhaps too much between her and her twin. 

Myrcella skirted over her mother and uncles masterfully, blinding them with sweetness and light, while setting her sights on her grandfather. It was clear in the reports that she respected him as much as she loathed them. She had found a picture of her grandmother, long dead, and had said that it could have just easily been a picture of her. Perhaps that’s why, within a matter of weeks she was sitting at the right hand of her grandfather, offering her counsel quietly to men twice her age.

She was good, Robb knew that. If he hadn’t known any better he would have swore she had changed sides.

****

“I’m grateful to the boy, I’ll give you that. He brought you back to where you belong and for that he will not suffer. But he is not worthy of you, my only granddaughter and I will not let you settle beneath your station.”

Myrcella rolled her eyes, playing the part of the granddaughter, “He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire country, Grandpa, don’t you think you’re being a little unfair?”

“We are lions, Myrcella, we don’t have to be fair,” he said and the old man nearly sounded petulant. 

She giggles, internally gagging at the wind chimes coming from her lips as she looked at noblest monster she’d ever met, “Oh Grandpa, who then would you have me date?”

“No one, for now. This is the time to keep a clear head, Myrcella. I see now that you may be the true Lannister heir, and when you do pair off it will be for the advancement of this family.”

“He’ll be awfully upset,” she says, and doesn’t try to hide the fact that she won’t be, she knows it will make him respect more.

“Then perhaps he isn’t a complete fool.”

She beams at him then, kissing his cheek, and she could swear the old lion’s eyes crinkle just a little, “Whatever you say Grandpa. But if we can move away from the subject of my love life… we’ve got a problem with the Freys.”

He looks at her sternly, but keeps silent so she goes on, “They get far too much out of this alliance, they are growing dangerous…”

“Perhaps I spoke too soon. You are no true lion if some such as the Freys can frighten you.”

“I do not fear them, not that way. We could squash them like the bugs they are and in time, we’ll need to. I fear the reputation they are giving us. They are weak and craven, and our association with them tarnishes our name.”

The looks he gives her now is not surprise, but relief, like he had been hoping someone would finally say it, “So what would you have us do?”

“Walder Frey is a vile old man, who is always licking the wounds of some imagined slight, he grows cocky because he mistakes our power for his, I’d like to correct him.” 

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“Oh I wouldn’t dare advise you on that. Tell me Grandpa, could we use the same methodology as you did with the Reynes?”

For a moment she fears she has gone too far. He will see through her, she should have waited. 

But his face contorts into his version of a smile and he says, with pride in his voice, “You know, Myrcella, it is a good thing you are my family, for I would not want you as a foe.”

She beams at him and for the first time since she has returned home her smile is genuine, because want it or not, she was his foe and he was about to hand her the kindling for his pyre.


	14. Chapter 14

“She did it! Robb she fucking did it!” Jon comes barreling into his office, Oberyn at his heels.

“What do you mean?”

“She tricked the old man into telling her all about the Reynes. Robb, it’s even better than we could have hoped for. Do you know that they left miners to drown underground? We can get them on negligent homicide ten times over at the very least, but that’s not all!”

“She’s convinced him to do it again – with the Freys,” Oberyn says.

“No, she wouldn’t. Myrcella would never encourage murder and we would never allow it,” Robb says firmly.

Jon pauses and rolls his eyes, “Obviously not that part. But the rest – they’ll be guilty of corruption, bribery, insider trading, for what they are about to do with the Freys. And the rest of it we’ll come out then.”

“Once they are broken, we are going to bury them Robb, she already has proof on ten murders at least that can be traced back to them. By the gods that girl is an inspiration,” Oberyn finishes. 

Robb only looks at Jon though, “And what about when Tywin blames this all on her? Or have you stopped caring what happens to her, now that you smell blood in the water?”

Jon looks at him aghast, “I care about that girl, more than my own life,” Robb still glares at him. Jon runs his hair and says to him, his anger growing “Fuck Robb – you did this, its time you get over it. Did you expect her to come running into your arms when she found out what happened? After four years you thought that one explanation would make up for everything? You DESTROYED her and I picked up the pieces, me and Sansa. I have been with her all along, I have never waivered. The next time you accuse me of disloyalty, you will regret it.”

Robb has the grace to look chagrined. He knew he deserved everything Jon said and more. In truth, he had hoped that one explanation would solve everything. He had hoped that once she knew that he had done it for her, for his family, that it would all make sense, and the pain would disappear. But it hadn’t.

“I’m sorry, man. I know you did and I love you for it. I just – I won’t survive it if something happens to her.”

Jon’s voice is kinder now, “We would never risk her, Robb. We are working with someone at the DOJ, Barristen Selmy, he’s promised her immunity. Once the Lannisters are behind bars, their fortune dissolved, the truth will come out. Her reputation will remain unblemished. And long before they rot in prison, you will have won her back.”

Robb looks at Jon, hope returning to him for the first time in years, but then he remembers Myrcella’s anger at the wedding, her eyes in the hotel room, her rigid stance as he knelt before her and it left just as quickly as it came.

****

HEAR ME ROAR: LEAKED FOOTAGE OF TYWIN’S BLUSTERY INTERROGATION GOES VIRAL

THE DOE IN THE LION’S DEN: MYRCELLA BARATHEON PROVES HERS IS THE FURY, HOW ONE GIRL TOPPLED AN EMPIRE

ELIA MARTELL, THE COUNTRY MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN HER, BUT HER BROTHER NEVER DID: A CHILLING TRUE STORY OF LOVE AND BETRAYAL

BEAUTIFUL AND CLEVER: WESTOROS’ IT GIRL MARGERY TYRELL ON FAMILY, FASHION, AND FEUDS 

IS THIS THE AGE OF WINTER?: ROBB STARK AND JON SNOW EXPAND SOUTH

****  
The fallout had been swift. What Myrcella had uncovered had only scratched the surface, and there was enough evidence against the Lannisters to put them all away for ten lifetimes. 

In the immediate aftermath, she had felt elation. Feeling free to be seen together again, Sansa had flown down to meet her, bringing Margery, Tyene and Nymeria along with her. She was still wary of Margery, she couldn’t forget that every moment of their friendship had been laced with ulterior motives, but she was overjoyed to see Sansa, and was surprised at how much she enjoyed the company of the Sand Snakes as well. They were sisters-in-arms, they had waged war together and they had won. They were mischievous and fun, and when Mycella went out with the dark haired beauties flanking her and Sansa, she felt that way too.

Soon though, they had gone back to Dorne. Plans had been made for her and Sansa to visit in a couple of months, and they kept in touch constantly.

Mercifully, Sansa was staying south. Plans had been made to expand the Stark company and Robb had enlisted Jon to head it. She was surprised by how quickly they fell back into a routine, their morning run with Lady, Myrcella getting her job back at Varys publishing, Sansa finally taking her place in the family company. 

Sansa was staying with her while she looked for a place for her and Jon, and Myrcella looked forward to the end of each day when they would cook dinner, drink wine, or just relax on the couch watching old movies. Sansa was stern with her, forcing her to eat, limiting their runs to once a day and only a few miles. Myrcella had balked at first, but she felt stronger now, her bones less visible and the shadows gone from under her eyes. 

She and Willas had broken up officially, and it was a relief to stop pretending. She knew that no matter what his family had encouraged him to do, his feelings had always been deeper than hers. She had started to thaw, had felt her eyes fill with life again, and she found that she could no longer go through the motions with him, not wanting to cause him pain. For so long she had been numb to everything, but after seeing the lack of remorse in her family’s faces she had opened her heart again, knowing that pain was the key to never turning into them.

Her heart opening though, was like a floodgate, and she tossed and turned in bed each night replaying her deepest moments of sorrow. The day Tommen had died was always the first, but the others were all tied to Robb: the last day he kissed her outside of Uncle Renly’s townhouse, his absence at her brother’s funeral, his strong arms around her as lead her around the dance floor at Sansa and Jon’s wedding, him telling her to forget him in the hotel room in Dorne. 

She took up kickboxing. For so long her anger had been directed at her family, and now that they had been put away she needed an outlet before it consumed her. She got back into charity as well though, knowing that it wasn’t enough to punish the Lannister’s, she had to give back some of the good they had stolen from the world.

One evening, smothered in cashmere, drinking one of the bottles of Dornish red Oberyn had sent her (there was also a beautiful Dornish Sand Steed stabled 20 minutes outside of the city), she and Sansa finally spoke about Robb. It was Sansa who brought it up, even now, Myrcella wouldn’t dare.

“You know, Ellie, I was angry with him for so long. For the past few years, Robb has been two men. On the one hand, he was my glorious older brother who took care of me and the kids, who would do anything to see me happy, who was doing so much to make our parents proud. On the other hand, he was this unknowable man who could cut love out of his heart and not look back. I tried so hard to reconcile the two in my head and it was only after hearing what had happened, that I realized they were one in the same. What motivated the one, stirred the other.”

Myrcella sat quietly for a long while, her eyes on the fire, mulling something over in her head, something she had been feeling for months now but had never said out loud.

“This may be hard to believe, Sansa, but I agree with you,” she finally said, “There is no part of me that thinks Robb is a monster, I know that he is a deeply good person, I’ve always known that, but at the same time…”

“At the same time, what?” Sansa asks, and Myrcella can hear in her voice how badly she wants to fix this for them.

“Nothing can change what has happened. Robb and I – we aren’t the same people who fell in love at a keg party. Some parts are the same, of course. He’s still the boy who would keep a vigil for you and I still enjoy bossing Jon around the kitchen, but the other parts? I’m no longer the bright young thing who brings lightness to those around him, and Robb is no longer someone who I feel safe with. These past few years have changed us irrevocably, too much has gone wrong.”

“I’m not saying it would be easy, Ellie, but I know you two better than anyone. You are still those same people. Sure you’ve changed, life does that to you, but at your core? Your lightness shines as bright as ever, maybe you can’t see it now but it does. And Robb? There will never be arms that you could be safer in. I know that he left you once, but he has suffered for it, every second of every day as you have. If you prolong the suffering now, you’ll only have yourself to blame in the end when you realize what could have been.”

Sansa kissed her cheek after that, going to pack. She was returning to Winterfell the next day to help pack up her and Jon’s house. 

****

“So, I guess this is it. When I get back, you’ll have left for the Riverlands…” Robb says to Jon as they pack up his office.

“Yeah man, we’re leaving Tuesday. Where are you going again?” Jon asks and Robb finds that he can’t meet his gaze.

“Just to Deepwood Motte for a few days. The Glovers are having a party for Robert’s daughter, she just got engaged,” Robb said. That part was true at least, they were having a party, he just hadn’t planned on attending.

If Jon senses anything he just continues to pack silently. So much of their time together was in silence, but it had always been so comfortable that neither of them minded. They had been raised as brothers and had never lived apart. Robb wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of being without Jon and Sansa, but he knew that the company’s southern ventures would be successful under their watchful eyes.

They finished packing and Jon looked around the office, his thoughts probably similar to Robb’s. He turned to Robb and said, “So, do we have time for a last drink before your flight?”

Robb’s throat got thick at the word ‘last’, but he smiled at his brother-in-law and simply said, “Aye”.


	15. Chapter 15

She was running the route she normally took with Sansa. It was an even four miles and Sansa had made her promise that she would stick to it while she was gone. Though Myrcella yearned to go longer, she knew that Sansa was right, so she didn’t veer down the path that would take her onwards.

She was almost through, her apartment building was only a half-mile away and she was on her favorite part of the route, running across the great park that cut the upper half of the city in half. Her headphones were blaring, and she was so focused on the scenery that she didn’t see the stick in her way. 

Her ankle rolled on it and she fell forward, scraping her knees and hands but otherwise uninjured. She tried to stand and found her left ankle weak when she put pressure on it. She’d have to walk the rest of the way. As she moves to start walking, a man steps into her path. 

She sees the gun, but is focused on his words “Your family sends their regards…” as he aims it at her head. 

Images flash through her mind, Sansa her dearest friend, Jon her big brother, and Robb, the love that had been stolen from her. ‘Robb, Robb, I’m so sorry my love,’ she thinks as his finger finds the trigger. 

She prepares herself for death, closing her eyes, not wanting this man to be her last image, so she doesn’t see the flurry of grey attack him from behind, she only hears the fierce growl and the sound of flesh being torn.

She opens her eyes to see a wolf with it’s mouth around her attackers throat, the blood pooling around them both. For a brief moment she thinks it must be Lady, but he is darker and she hears, a muffled voice shouting “Grey Wind!”

The last thing she sees before she faints is Robb Stark’s ocean eyes lock on hers.

****

Robb hadn’t even bothered checking into the hotel, he had sent the bags along while he and Grey Wind went right to Ellie’s apartment building. He went into the elegant lobby, to the front desk.

“Excuse me sir, can you kindly ring up to the penthouse? I’m here to see Miss Baratheon,” he says politely.

“You think we are going to let a damn paparazzo up to her apartment? This is a family building. Leave the poor girl alone,” the grumpy concierge says.

“I – uh, am not a paparazzo. I’m Robb Stark, my sister Sansa has lived here on and off for months. Now please ring up to the penthouse,” he says, less politely.

The concierge looks from him to Grey Wind and recognition dawns in his eyes. 

“I-I’m sorry, of course Mr. Stark, I spoke only out of protection for our tenants, please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, now if you could kindly ring up to the penthouse?” he says and he feels Grey Wind pressing against his side, probably sensing his frustration.

“Oh, she isn’t here, Mr. Stark. She’s on her morning run. She’s been gone a while, could be a few minutes, could be an hour depending on which route she chose today. But you’re welcome to wait,” he says, gesturing to the pristine couches. 

“That’s alright, we’ll come back later,” Robb says before turning on his heel, Grey Wind loping after him.

It was an overcast day, and Robb knew it would rain later on, so he thought a walk with Grey Wind now would be his best bet. They’ve walked a couple of blocks, nearing the edge of the park, when all of a sudden Grey Wind’s ears perk up and a low, pained growl erupts from his chest. Just like that, his wolf takes off at a punishing speed deeper into the park. All Robb can do is follow.

All he sees is a man with his back towards Robb, and then Grey Wind is on him from behind. His growl is like a war cry and his teeth cut through his skin like it’s made of butter. Robb is horrified and all he can think to do is shout “Grey Wind!”

But then he sees what the man was holding, a gun, and who it had been aimed at, Ellie. She is staring unseeing at the bloody scene before her, and her beautiful green eyes only meet his for a moment before they roll to the back of her head and she collapses.

He is to her in an instant, though it feels like days, and he cradles her in his lap, checking to ensure that they were not too late, that she was still with him. Grey Wind, his victim now taken care of, comes over as well, sniffing for blood, whimpering softly as he nudges her gently with his blood covered snout. 

When Robb is sure that she doesn’t have any serious injuries, he picks her in his arms and carries her back to her apartment, Grey Wind at his side, alert in case any further threats lurk around them. The assassin is forgotten, all Robb cares about is getting Ellie home safe. 

This time the concierge doesn’t give him any trouble, though that may have more to do with Grey Wind’s bloody fur than Myrcella unconscious in his arms, and he whisks her up to the top floor.

He had never been to the apartment before, but if Robb could focus on anything other than the beautiful girl in his arms, he would have smiled at how like her it was. Everything about it was elegant and feminine, just like her.

He takes her to the overstuffed couch and lays her down gently. Grey Wind immediately hops up next to her, his body half covering her legs as he rests his head on her stomach. Robb can do nothing but pace, waiting for her to wake up. 

He decides to make a fire, so that she will be comfortable when she does, but he can’t help but look at her once more. It had been so long that he had been able to just look at her. He is relieved, at least, to see the shadows gone from under her eyes. Her face is still perfect, and when he brushes a lock of hair off of it, tears spring to his eyes at how soft her skin is, how silky her hair. Forgetting the fire, he kneels down to her, his face hovering over her as he lets a finger trail the curve of her face.

He has just reached her chin, when her eyes open dreamily. He is shocked when she smiles at him, “It didn’t hurt, my love”.

“What didn’t hurt, Ellie?”

“Dying – I always thought it would but it didn’t. And now you’re here with me, it’s perfect,” she says, her voice still dreamy.

“Ellie – you aren’t dead – Grey Wind sensed it and he stopped it. You’re alive, my love,” he says pressing kisses to her hand.

He sees her face contort in confusion as she moves to sit up, her hand falling absentmindedly to Grey Wind’s head.

“What do you mean? Why are you here? How did -?” she asks, rubbing her head as if waking up from a bewildering dream. 

“I came here to find you, to tell you that if you would only give me a second chance, I would never be parted from you again. You’re it, Ellie, you’re my whole life and there is no revenge in the world that can make up for the pain I’ve felt every day since I left you.”

His head is in her lap now, and as she had with Grey Wind, her hand seems to run through his hair absentmindedly. He closes his eyes at the touch, it is so achingly familiar and his heart swells in memory. 

“I saw you,” she says quietly, as though just remembering. He peers up, his eyes searching hers, willing her to continue. “When the gun was aimed at me, I saw you,” she says incredulously. She looks at him then, sternly, and says, “You’ve made a mess of things, you handled so many things wrong, but when death came for me, I wanted your face to be last thing I saw,” and as she finishes there are tears in her eyes. 

He can’t think of what to say. He knows this won’t be the end of it. He has years of apologies to make and he intends on making every one of them, but right now, with her sweet admission still fresh on her lips, his only thought is to kiss her.

****  
It isn’t like the last time. The kisses in Dorne had been fervent, angry, passionate. There is passion when Robb kisses her now, it is undeniable, but this kiss is full of sweetness and reverence and her heart uncoils more and more with every passing moment. 

It is she who intensifies it, her tongue that enters his mouth, her hands that wind through his hair. She feels his groan and knows that he was holding back for her benefit. She breaks away and his lips find her throat immediately, she catches her breath long enough to say, “Robb, take me to the bedroom.”

He swoops her up instantly and her heart sings at being in his strong arms again. They realize halfway there that he doesn’t actually know where her bedroom is and she points haphazardly in that direction as she captures his mouth again.

He puts her down gently on the bed and begins to remove her clothes. Her sneakers and socks, her workout shorts and top. Somewhere in the distant recesses of her mind she realizes that she is in fact in her sweaty exercise clothes, but as Robb’s lips find her body she finds that she doesn’t care. 

He kisses her everywhere, her arms, her stomach, kissing up to our breast as he removes her sports bra. He gets off her for a moment and she whimpers, desperate for him to resume his travels. He chuckles lightly as he removes his shirt, and her eyes rake over the hard muscles, even more defined now. 

He moves down now, kissing up her legs, his tongue licking the back of her knee, his teeth gracing her thigh. When his tongue reaches her cunt they both let out a moan and he grasps her thighs, keeping them apart as his tongue laps at her. She comes apart almost instantly, trying to pull him up to her, needing to feel him inside of her.

He looks up at her, his blue eyes glimmering with mischief and desire, and his deep northern accent sends shivers over her body when he says, “Not so fast, Ellie, I’m not done with you yet.”

His mouth returns to her again then, his tongue swirling over her nub, and Myrcella has to shove her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out when he pushes a finger inside of her. It comes out as a strangled sound and he looks up at her, removing her fist from her mouth. 

“No my love, let me hear you,” he says reverently as he puts another finger in, curling them deliciously. His eyes don’t leave hers now and she lets out a cry at the sensation. 

His blue eyes cloud over in desire, and she lets out moan after moan as he continues his ministrations. He enters her with a third finger, and the sensation of being stretched around him sends her over the edge.

He kisses his way up to her mouth, and she can taste herself on him but she doesn’t care as he holds her in his arms, giving her a moment to recover. She can feel his hardness against her though, and there is no amount of exhaustion she can imagine that would distract her from it.

She turns towards him, rolling him as well, and pushing herself up so that she is sitting astride him. 

“Ellie, my love, my only love,” he says as his fingers trail up and down her sides as though she were made of glass. 

She raises herself now, so she can position him at her entrance, and she sinks down on him slowly.

“By the gods Ellie, your cunt is like coming home,” Robb lets out and it is dirty and vulgar and she adores it.

She starts to rock back and forth, and she can’t disagree with him. Feeling him inside of her was like nothing else, and as she rolls her hips she can almost believe that the last few years hadn’t happened. But when she looks down at him, and sees the apology and the sadness intermingled with his desire and she brings his hand to her mouth, kissing the back of it and then the palm.

He brings it to cup her face, as the other hand holds her side firmly, his fingers wrapped around the curve of her ass. She covers the hand on her side with hers and urges him to move her. 

The pace he sets is slow and teasing, he rocks her on him slowly, putty in his hands as his other hand now trails down her neck, before finding her breast. He cups it in his hand, rolling a nipple in his fingers. She lets out a moan and he does it again. Her eyes drop down to his and she could drown in them. 

Her hands fall down to cup his face now, leaning down to kiss him, slowly. His other hand falls to her side, and she starts to move a little faster, urging him into what she wants. He needs no further encouragement and starts to rock her back and forth faster, both hands moving so they are cupping her bottom. 

She is at such an angle that her clit is rubbed with every thrust and soon she is crying out into his mouth. He keeps moving her on him, his fingers holding her firmly and soon she can no longer kiss him, as she lets out moan after moan. 

His mouth finds her ear, as she feels her orgasm build, and his voice is low but smooth as velvet when he says, “That’s it my love, come for me, I need to feel you, that’s a girl, just let yourself go.”

She is helpless against him and cries out once more as the wave of pleasure rushes over her. He must have been holding on for her benefit, because he thrusts once more, then again, before he too finds his release.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut has returned! I'm foreseeing a few more chapters with this story but it is nearing an end... let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions for my next fic!


	16. Chapter 16

He isn’t sure when they fell asleep, but by the time Robb wakes up it is nearly dark outside. Ellie is lying peacefully next to him and his mind runs over the events of the day. 

There was no doubt that the assassin had been sent by her family. He would have to warn the others of possible retaliations and he would need to contact Barristen Selmy, who may be able to connect the dots to whom had sent him specifically. But Robb is more focused on what had happened when Ellie had woken up. ‘But when death came for me, I wanted your face to be the last thing I saw,’ she had said. 

It had been indescribable, being inside of her again like that. In Dorne it was too rushed, to filled with anger, their situation still too helpless to have hope. But this morning had been like when they were together, perhaps still twinged in sadness and regret, but so incredibly sweet and hopeful after all of this time. 

His eyes rake over her body, drinking her in. She was more of a woman now, at 23 then she had been at 18, and he delighted in the slight curve of her hips. She was healthier now too than she had been in years, and his hand flattened against her stomach, still feeling her ribs but in a less troublesome way. 

She murmurs something in her sleep at his touch and Robb can’t help but stroke her stomach, and her arms, and her breasts. He is focused on her rosebud nipple when her breath hitches, and he shifts his gaze to meet her still sleepy green eyes. 

Without breaking eye contact, he lets his hand roam down to her cunt, cupping her as he sticks two fingers inside. His eyes close at the sensation as he lets out a low growl, “Fuck Ellie you are so ready for me.”

He is surprised to hear her clench around his fingers when he says that, getting even wetter than before. “Do you like that my love? Do you like knowing that your sweet cunt is beckoning me to take you?,” he asks as he extracts his fingers, his eyes going back to hers as he raises them to his lips so that he can taste her. 

He doesn’t expect her to say anything, but without breaking eye contact, she lets out a ‘Yes’. His cock is already hard as a rock and he knows that if he looks into those glorious green eyes of hers for a moment longer he is going to come apart instantly.

He flips her over gently so that she is on her stomach, and he leans down and presses a kiss to her perfect butt cheek, before following the trail up her spine. By the time he has reached in between her shoulder blades, he sees that Myrcella has shifted her position. Her face and breasts still rest against the bed, but she has gotten up on her knees, her perfect ass peaked. He groans when he sees her like this, so ready for him and he rises so that he is kneeling.

His hand cups her bottom kneading it with one of his hands while his other starts to stroke her again. He can feel her pushing back against him and his mind gets cloudy. “Tell me what you want, Ellie,” he says, his voice low with desire.

He removes his fingers briefly so that he can coat his cock in her wetness and she says, “I want you to take me… to make me yours again, please Robb.”

He is helpless against her words, and he gives her what she wants. He thrusts into her without preamble, and her tightness around him makes him curse. He takes her more roughly then before, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her back onto him again and again. The sight of her perfect ass below him, pushing against him, meeting every thrust drives him crazy, and he shifts so that his chest covers her back. He holds her waist to him with one arm as the other grasps her throat gently.

“You are mine, Myrcella Baratheon, as I am yours,” he says, his hips rolling into hers now, pressing kisses to her shoulder, his teeth grazing it. “No one else will ever touch you again,” he says with a hard thrust, “We will never be parted again,” he says with another, “And if anyone tries to harm you, it will be at my hands that they meet their end,” he says again, knowing that he will not last long, the feeling of being inside her mixed with the headiness of his promises and the anger that lies beneath them.

She is moaning now, and whether it is from his words or his thrusts or both he neither knows nor cares, because as he takes her hard and fast she lets out her own promises, “I am yours, only yours Robb as you are mine. We will never be alone again, we will never forget what this feels like again, and if anyone should dare to part us again then may the gods have mercy on their soul.”

Her words send him over the edge, and he pulls her back so that he can kiss her mouth, thrusting into her again as they both reach their peak. 

****

“Soooo what do you think?,” she asked him as she lead him in the doorway of their new townhouse.

The bones of the house were beautiful, dark wood paneling, with the original coffering on the ceiling. It was expansive, and it sprawled generously, one room leading into another, a charming garden in the back. 

Sansa had already begun decorating, making it a home, and Jon was filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness as they walked through.

“It’s perfect,” he said drawing her to him, nuzzling in her silky red hair, “You’re perfect.”

She loops her arms around her neck, kissing him lightly before resting her cheek to his chest, her head under his chin. 

“It’s rather large though, for the two of us and the wolves…” she says.

“Then perhaps we’ll need to fill it with children…” he muses, imagining a little girl with red ringlets chasing Ghost around the house.

If he had looked down at her, he might have seen her blush, but as it was he was looking around their new home, and he simply heard her say, “My thoughts exactly.”

He pulled away from her then, his hands sliding down to cup her ass, “Shall we get started then?,” he asks, trailing kisses along her jaw.

“I suppose we have some time before we meet Ellie for dinner at 8…” she says as she tugs him by his shirt, up the stairs to their new room.

****

“Not now, Robb, we’ll be late…” she says as he kisses the back of her neck while she fastens her earring. 

Even as she says it, she feels herself wavering, his arm circling her waist pulling her to him. She lets her head fall back against his chest, looking at the two of them in her long mirror, and his blue eyes meet hers in appreciation.

He is wearing a navy blue suit, fitted to him perfectly, the top button of his white dress shirt unbuttoned revealing a tuft of chest hair that made Myrcella’s knees wobbly. He was such a man, and it made her feel all the more delicate in his arms. She was wearing a fitted sleeveless pink dress, her hair in a loose chignon, with only a pair of diamond earrings as an accessory. 

They had spent the last few days in a glorious haze of lovemaking and reconciliation. They had talked…a lot, but not just about the sad things, about everything. He told her his dreams for the company, she told him her plans to start her own publishing firm. He told her all about the kids and she reveled in the familiar personalities the stories revealed.

The pain would always be there, but it was muted now. She understood why he had done what he did, and she knew that if he were given the same choice now, he would choose differently. She had spent years in a haze of sadness and she had no intention of prolonging it any further. He was hers and she was his and the rest would sort itself out over time.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asks her, turning her around so that he can kiss her.

She pulls away before it can get too intense, not trusting herself not to make them late. 

“Ready,” she says, then she looks at him slyly, “I can’t wait to see their faces!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell them,” he says shaking his head with a smile.

“Come on, darling, this is so much for fun,” she says and offers her hands which he readily takes.

The taxi to the restaurant is quick, mercifully, as Robb was cut short as his hand reached up her thigh. He groaned when they pulled up but she smiled at him, kissing his cheek, promising him that there would be more than enough time for that later.

When she gave the maitre’d the name of their party he swept them over to the corner table where Robb and Sansa were already seated, deep in conversation.

“Hello, lovebirds,” she chirped, then said casually, “Have you met my boyfriend?”

They look up in tandem and their faces are identical masks of surprise, causing her and Robb to laugh as he throws his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him so that he can kiss her temple.

They jump up at once, hugging and kissing her and Robb, and when she and Sansa embrace there are tears of happiness in her friend’s eyes. 

“I knew it,” Jon was saying, “I knew it!”

They all settle in to the table after ordering a bottle of champagne and Myrcella is surprised by how much more real it feels now that their best friends know. Sitting together at dinner, everyone talking over each other, Sansa rolling her eyes at Robb while Jon and Myrcella take each other’s side in every debate, it feels exactly like it used to.

Later that evening, after multiple plans had been made for dinners and housewarmings and movies, Myrcella sat on the couch in front of the fire with Robb, curled up in his arms. They hadn’t bothered to change, she had simply kicked off her shoes and burrowed into his waiting arms. They sat quietly for a long time, his hand lightly stroking her hair.

“There was something that bothered me tonight at dinner…” Robb muses and she sits up then, confused. Dinner had been perfect.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually going to do that new campaign for Margery with Sansa…I just didn’t want it to be a thing,” she said thinking that it would be a long while before she had any interest in teaming up with the Tyrell again.

“No, no it’s not that, though I’m glad to hear it. It was when you called me your boyfriend,” he says as he shifts away from her slightly.

She turns to him, “And why does that bother you exactly?,” a cautious edge in her tone.

“It just sounds so…trivial,” he says as he gets off the couch, dropping to one knee in front of her.

“Robb…” she asks, her eyes dropping from his blue eyes to the little box he holds in his hands.

“Ellie, you said it yourself, I’ve made a mess of things, I’ve handled so many things wrong, but the one thing I never did, the one thing I could never do is stop loving you. Please do me the incredible kindness of becoming my wife, and I will spend every minute of our eternity proving that to you,” he says as he opens the box, revealing the most perfect diamond she had ever seen.

“I love you Robb Stark, always have, always will. Of course I will be your wife.” she says and the tears in her eyes are replaced with laughter as he picks her up and swings her around.

****

It had been weeks since he had asked her, and even still Robb couldn’t believe that the glorious creature next to him had agreed to be his wife. Wearing a silver cocktail dress, her golden halo falling in waves around her, she was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

They were at Jon and Sansa’s new home, Sansa had insisted on hosting their engagement party and Robb was overjoyed to have his family under one roof again, with Ellie in the middle of it all. 

She was talking to Rickon now and as always his younger brother looked at her with such open adoration that Robb feared she may have already ruined him for all women. Myrcella reached up to stroke Rickon’s face, and the gesture was so maternal that Robb’s heart constricted.

He sees Jon and Sansa out of the corner of his eye and he turns to Ellie saying, “I think it’s time my love, let’s take them out back.”

She nods at him, extricating herself from her conversation with the youngest Stark as he moves towards Jon and Sansa asking them to join him and Ellie in the garden.

He feels the chill in the air as soon as they get outside and smirks as Jon takes his blazer off at the same moment he does, offering them to Sansa and Myrcella respectively. 

“So what’s up?” Sansa asks, “Is it too much? Jon told me the band would be a bit much but I just got so excited!”

Ellie giggles and he smiles at his sister, “No, it’s perfect… thank you, both again.”

“It’s nothing Robb, we’re happy to do it.” Jon says.

“We aren’t just thanking you for the party, lovely as it is,” Ellie says now, and the mirth is gone from her face, “Neither of us would be standing here today without you two. Over the past few years you have been our light, our strength, and we could live 100 lifetimes and not be able to return the kindness…”

“We love you guys,” Sansa says, “There was no sacrifice in it.”

“We know that,” Robb says, “And we’d like to ask one more thing of each of you…”

“Will you stand up there with us on our wedding day?” Ellie asks hopefully, “Will you be my maid of honor?” she directs at Sansa.

“Yes! Yes of course you beautiful fool!” Sansa says and hugs Ellie, the two girls laughing, Sansa already musing about the catering.

“And uh, will you be my best man?” Robb asks.

“No,” Jon deadpans, before his face breaks into a grin and the two brothers embrace. 

They are about to go back inside when Sansa and Jon share a look. Sansa is slightly shaking her head and Jon is nodding vigorously.

“What’s going on, guys?” Robb asks.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything yet,” Sansa says glaring at Jon who only winks at her, “But…I’m pregnant,” she says and the joy on her face sends Robb’s heart soaring. 

The sound that escapes Ellie’s mouth is almost inhuman and they all pause to look at her before she mumbles “Oh shut up,” before pulling Jon and Sansa in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, I really wasn’t going to say anything, I didn’t want to steal your thunder,” Sansa is saying to her.

Ellie pulls away, looking at her like she has seven heads and says, “Are you crazy? I’m going to be an aunt! By the gods that kid is going to be so spoiled…” she says bringing a smile to his face, as she wipes the happy tears from Sansa’s eyes.

Robb could see it now, a little redheaded girl, snuggled into her golden aunt’s lap, while her black haired brother climbed all over him, and he knew that she was right, those kids were going to be incredibly spoiled. They would grow up in a happy home, with family surrounding them, and cousins who would be the best friends they could ever hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was the fluffiest of the fluff... only an epilogue to follow.


	17. EPILOGUE

SEVEN YEARS LATER

“You shoulda seen it, Uncle Robb! I swear it was like 12 feet high…” little Ned said to him as he climbed in his lap, his sneakers digging into Robb’s thighs as he made himself comfortable. 

“12 feet high!? More like 15!” Tommy said as he held onto Jon’s bicep as his uncle lifted him up and down off the ground, eliciting giggles from Robb’s raven-haired eldest son.

Robb smiled at the two boys, born less than a year apart, the two were now six and they were being raised as close as brothers, just as he and Jon had been. 

“Momma I want to see it next time…” four-year-old Brynden said to Sansa, a slight whine in his voice at being excluded from the older boy’s adventure. 

“Of course you will, my sweetling,” Sansa coos at her youngest, ruffling his tuft of auburn hair.

“Not me,” Cat says as she curls up in Ellie’s arms, their golden hair identical shades. She is holding their new wolf pup, who hums as the littlest Stark scratches his ears.

“Why not, Kitty?” Brynden asked, suddenly rethinking his course if his fearless leader was uninterested.

“Why would we leave Winterfell, Bryn?” Cat responds, her mirthful blue eyes twinkling with more wisdom than any girl her age had the right to have. 

At three and a half, she was the princess of the lot. Being the only girl and the youngest might have ostracized her in some communities, but her cousins and her brother followed her every command, happily doing her bidding. Ned was wearing a flower crown currently to please her and when it came time for her nap, it would be Tommy’s hand that she would hold as she climbed the stairs, as the family puppy hurried after them.

They had all moved back to Winterfell after Ned was born. Sansa wanted to raise her children in their hometown and Robb and Myrcella had moved back into the family home. Tommen had been born here, as had Catelyn and it cheered them all to see how much the next generation loved it. The younger Starks had all made their way back over the years and Winterfell hummed once again with life. 

Ellie lets out a giggle, still girlish at 29 and a mother of two, as the wolf licks her face. She rubs her face against its fur and Robb’s smile is wide as he watches his little girl mimic her beautiful mother. 

Ned’s little hands cup his cheeks as he turns to Robb and says, “Uncle, can we play White Walker now?”

Robb says “Oh, I don’t know…,” as his gaze meets Jon’s, who is already getting into position.

“Yeah, boys, I don’t know if you can handle…..THE INVASION!” Jon says as they both get up, Ned and Tommy already shrieking as they run across the lawn, hoping to prolong the chase. 

Kitty and Brynden race after them, and Jon catches his niece, throwing her up into the air. The little wolf barks at him, nervous for his charge, but Kitty only shrieks with laughter. Like all of the children, she had been raised knowing that no matter how high she was thrown, she would always be caught by sure hands.

Sansa and Ellie looked on laughing, as he and Jon chased the kids before finally allowing themselves to be tackled in a pile of little feet and hands. 

***

That evening, after Jon and Sansa had gone home and the kids had been put to bed, he walks into his and Ellie’s bedroom to find her getting ready for bed. She was wearing light pink silk pajama shorts and a matching tank top and she looked like the girl he had fallen in love with all of those years ago.

He goes up behind her and kisses her shoulder, breathing her in, “Mmm…you smell like sunscreen and cake batter and the children’s shampoo,” he says lovingly. 

“Who needs perfume?” she jokes as she lets her head fall back against his chest.

In some ways she was exactly like the girl he had always known, he saw the little girl she had been in their daughter’s blonde curls, he saw the light she always had in their son’s sunny demeanor, but she had changed too. She had become a true woman of substance. She was his partner in everything and she was an incredible mother. Their nephews loved their sweet aunt, little Ned had even crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty on his last nameday. 

He feels her body pressed against and feels himself stir at her proximity as he always had. As she turns around to kiss him, her desire matching his, he knows that he could live a thousand lifetimes and there would never be a decision he would value more than when he had crossed that keg party all those years ago. His life had started that night and Robb sunk into his wife’s kiss eager to fall into this moment with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support on this one! 
> 
> I am dying for new ideas, so let me know if you have any...


End file.
